Perchance To Dream
by Nyte Kat
Summary: finished The most recent chapter in my dreams series is done: Jake ends up in therapy after the past events. A series of new events effected by the past occur and once again he is lost
1. Default Chapter

Jake watched with mild admiration as his best friend carried on with the waitress as if he'd known her for years. Chance could talk to any woman with ease, a skill Jake would have loved to have been blessed with.   
  
"You know her?" The thin tom asked already knowing the answer.  
  
"Her? Well, I do now." He laughed and held up a piece of paper that came with his coffee. Her number. Jake shook his head and gazed out the window. Beside the diner was a muddy field. Some kittens were playing a rough game of football. Their different colors in fur and clothing had vanished beneath the cold thick muck. The icy rain did little to wash it away. For a moment he longed to be that young again, to join them and make up for some of the activities he missed out on as a child.  
  
"Hey bud, you gonna eat or stare out the window all day?" Chance disrupted his friend's daydreaming. His broad shoulders sagged for a moment. "Jake?" He reached over the table and gave his friend's arm a tap.   
  
"Huh?" Jake turned almost setting his arm in his plate. "Oh.." He picked up his fork and pushed his scrambled eggs around for moment and then smothered them in ketchup. The two always went out for breakfast on Sunday, usually to the small diner they were at presently, or on occasion to the Waffle Hut. Jake preferred Kati Korner, the diner they were currently sitting in. It was cozy, and old fashioned, one of the few buildings that hadn't been remodeled after Mega War II. There were black and white pictures of old soldiers on the walls, yellow ribbons still beside the pictures of those lost in the war. Chance loved this place. It was like something right out of a movie.   
  
"I found the front end to a 40's model roadster." The blonde, muscular kat said around a bit of sausage. There was a twinkle in his blue eyes. "I bet if we looked, the rest of it's out in that scrap yard somewhere."   
  
Jake shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips.   
  
"What would we do with a roadster?" There was a light chuckle in his voice. Chance stopped his fork halfway to his mouth and smiled.  
  
"Drive it, I suppose." He gave the waitress a playful wink as she refilled his cup. Her cheeks warmed to a pink that matched the stripes on her uniform. The plastic name tag said "Tina" in bold black letters. She wasn't young, not like Chance and Jake, granted Chance was only 3 years shy of 30. Tina was obviously no spring chicken. There were tired crows feet at the corners of her eyes and spider veins on her arms. Her fur was thinning and her brown hair was gray at the roots. Her light green eyes caught an equally thin mud-covered kitten outside and a smile warmed her face as he waved quickly at her.   
  
"That your kid?" Jake asked. It was the first thing he'd said to her besides his order. She almost dropped the pot of coffee in her bony paw. Chance gave Jake a look of surprise.   
  
"See, he does speak on occasion." Chance joked. She gave Jake a warm smile.  
  
"Yes." She said, pride in her voice and chest swelling like a Robin showing off his redbreast in the spring. "He's 11, and devilishly handsome when he's not covered in dirt." Jake gave a small 'heh' and focused back on his food. She gave him a curious look and Chance shrugged his shoulders at her, unable to supply reason to his friend's sudden curiosity.   
  
It had been a week since the deaths of Jake's mother and sister. They had returned to the city, to some form of normalcy. After all, what could be considered normal for a life such as theirs? Chance found himself staring vacantly at a small reddish-brown scab that partially showed despite Jake's long sleeves. Under the table, Jake stretched his injured leg with a quiet wince. Chance cleared his throat.   
  
"How much longer you think you got?" He quirked his head in the direction of Jake's left leg. Jake just shrugged.  
  
"A couple of weeks at least." He was tired. Sleep hadn't come willingly since coming home. There had been a couple of late night attacks on the city. Even though he couldn't go, the blaring alarm still woke him up, and his desire to be up there helping kept him awake. Then there were the dreams. The suicide of his sister had unlocked a door in his mind he'd closed before joining the Enforcers. His life then was gone. Jake didn't need it coming back to haunt him now.  
  
Chance had given him his space. The grief was evident on Jake's visage. There were dark circles under his bloodshot eyes from lack of sleep. And his lack of appetite had made a significant difference in his best friend's weight, as well as energy. Chance had become more of a big brother in the past month of Jake's life than he had ever been. Of course, being a big brother was Chance's job in life. After all, he had come from a large family. He sighed.   
  
"Maybe we should skip that movie this afternoon. You look like you need to sleep for about a year."   
  
Jake laughed at the evident concern in his friend's voice. He needed sleep. He needed a lot of things. But sleep didn't give him those things. It only brought him closer to a part of his past that he'd wanted to put behind him.   
  
For a moment, Chance thought he'd seen a glint of sadness flicker in Jake's amber eyes. But that quickly faded.  
  
"Yeah, we could just rent something I guess." He made a face, deciding he wasn't hungry anymore and pushed his plate away. "I need to pick up something to help me sleep anyway." His voice had softened considerably.   
  
"I would have thought the pain killers you were on would have put you out like a light." He narrowed his eyes. "But then again you did flush them all." He smiled at the shocked look Jake gave him.  
  
"How'd you know about that?" His eyes had widened like a kitten's after being caught in the cookie jar. That had been at least 3 days ago.  
  
"Aw, come on Jake. You know I got better hearing than that. With the fuss you made that night!" He laughed. "Sounded like you were drunk, tripping over stuff, cursing like a sailor." He dug his fork into the chili-cheese hash browns on his plate. "What was that all about anyway? I mean, those are supposed to help you." Jake shrugged.  
  
"They were more of a hindrance than anything. You think I sounded drunk? Hah! I felt it too. I'll take my chances with the pain."   
  
************************************  
  
Chance parked the truck in the closest spot to the grocery store he could find, an easy task considering most Kats were either at home or with church groups. His breath came out in white puffs in the cold air. The snow had turned to sludge but it was still bitter cold; he slipped a little on an icy spot as he made his way to the passenger side.  
  
Jake held out his paw for Chance to help him down. He hated being so short. Sometimes he felt like a little kid around Chance. "Careful, there's a slick spot here." The older kat handed him his cane. "You got it?" Chance asked, not really feeling like watching Jake fall on his face.   
  
"Yeah." Jake said, leaning on the cold metal for support while he managed to zip his heavy coat with one paw. "I got it." He frowned and followed Chance into the warmth of the grocery store.   
  
"Movies first?" He asked pointing to the in-store video place. Jake shrugged and followed him.  
  
"How about 'Return of the Seed People'?" Chance asked, looking in the small horror section. "Ooh, no wait... 'The Kats Under The Stairs'." Jake laughed as Chance did his impression of the kat with no tongue saying 'Fool! Fool!'.   
  
"Sure, get that one." Jake sniggered. Chance's face lit up and he grabbed a couple karate movies too.  
  
About 4 movies, a box of hot chocolate mix, some sleeping pills, and some snacks later, they were on their way home.  
  
************************************  
  
"THE ENFORCERS? MY SON IS JOINING THE ENFORCERS?" Jake backed up against the wall as his father screamed at him in another drunk rage. "FOR THE LOVE OF KATS JACOB! OF ALL THE THINGS YOU COULD DO WITH YOUR LIFE YOU WANT TO THROW IT AWAY AND HAVE SOME BLUE COLLAR JOB WITH YOUR NAME ON YOUR SHIRT! YOU'RE NO SON OF MINE! THAT'S FOR DAMN SURE!" He chucked the empty glass bottle at his son, giving a crooked smile as it broke against his shoulder. Then he frowned and staggered back to his chair. "I've wasted my life on you." His hate for his son's decision turned to self-pity in a matter of seconds. "No matter what I say, you'll run off to that damn academy and put your life on the line for some city that doesn't give a rat's ass about ya! And who will they blame when your body turns up stone cold dead in some gutter? Me. Yours Truly. Good ole dad. That's who they'll blame. They'll say what a horrible miserable father I was, letting my only son run off into the military and waste his brain away."   
  
Jake felt tears burn down his cheeks. "Dad that's not true! They'll pay for everything! Just think about what I can learn from this!" His father narrowed his eyes. He was a tall man with a thick gut from years of sitting behind a desk in some office with a nice view.   
  
"You're not doing this for you." He slurred. "You're doing this to embarrass me! So tell me, son." He moved slowly closer, getting in his 17 year olds face. "Tell me, is this your idea of some teenage act of rebellion? Are you going to throw your whole life away just to make your family look bad?"   
  
Jake snarled, "I. Am. Doing. This. Whether. You. Like. It. Or. Not." He said slowly, voice dripping with acid, bordering on hate for his father. Then something seemed to snap in his father's eyes. Those golden amber orbs that he had inherited suddenly gleamed brightly with a flame that resembled insanity in it's purest form.   
  
"Tell me son, do you hate me?" He smiled. "Be honest." Jake gritted his teeth.  
  
"Yes." He said quietly.  
  
"What's that? I couldn't hear your answer boy." His smile widened.  
  
"Yes!" Jake's voice cracked as he raised it.  
  
"Come again? Good ole dad's a little hard of hearing these days." He hissed with an evil grin.  
  
"YES! Now leave me the fuck alone!" He pushed his father back, regretting instantly his actions. James Clawson reared back and punched his son in the jaw with strength no one would expect from some inebriated businessman. "You'll watch your tone from now on." The alcohol was thick on his breath as he leaned in close to his shivering son's face. Jake's fur was matted down with tears. James backed away from him and reached into his coat hanging on the chair. Jake couldn't tell what he was doing, too afraid to move.   
  
"Ya know, your mother says I've changed. That I'm not the kat I used to be. I'm just some immoral, waste of life." There was an audible click of a gun. Jake swallowed as his father turned around with a shiny pistol in his paws. "You think that's true too. I can see it in your eyes. But what you don't know is that the wasteful, useless kat around here is not me." He raised the gun into the air, aiming it unsteadily at his son's head. Jake twitched his whiskers nervously. "It's you." He lowered the gun and got back in his son's face. "And the only one around here who can see the truth is me." He whispered dangerously into one of Jake's ears. Then he turned and took a couple steps away. "But no, they will never hear it. I'm just some drunk. I hope you'll be happy with your life." Jake didn't move, he didn't say anything as his father put the barrel of the gun in his mouth. He just closed his eyes. There was a loud bang and then a spray of hot sticky matter splattered all over his face.  
  
************************************  
  
Jake sat up with a gasp for air. It was dark and cool in his room. But he was sweating profusely and his throat was parched. The door flew open and light filled the room; Jake shielded his eyes.  
  
Chance had dropped the can of milk he was holding when he had heard Jake scream from his room. Not even thinking that all he had to do was turn the knob and the door would open, he barreled into it, sending it off one of its hinges. "You okay?" It was a stupid question. There was his best friend sitting up in bed, dripping with perspiration, trying to catch his breath and shaking all over.   
  
Jake nodded anyway and got out of bed, grabbing his cane and heading straight for the fridge. He needed a drink. Chance followed him, an anxious, worried look on his face. The younger kat shook his head with a mix of frustration over being worried for and nervousness of what he was going to tell Chance. After a long swig of milk, he figured the truth was the easiest way. He was too tired to think of some elaborate lie. His reflection in the kitchen window caught him by surprise. He looked like death warmed over. Fur was sticking up all over the back of his head and matted down with sweat everywhere else. There were still dark bags under his eyes. Jake heaved a long sigh and made his way to the living room, slowly sitting down in the comfy old recliner that was normally occupied by Chance.   
  
Chance watched Jake take over his favorite spot, but didn't say anything. He was trying to read the expression of fear and pain on his friend's face. The springs in the old couch gave a soft screech as the large kat sat down. "Must've been some kind of nightmare for you to yell like you did." He leaned back and crossed his arms across his broad chest. "Movies weren't too gory for ya were they?" He smiled, trying to lighten the mood.  
  
Jake gave a small laugh and shook his head before leaning back as well. He rubbed his eyes hard. How was he supposed to go about explaining it without completely breaking down? Fortunately, Chance always managed to break the ice for him.  
  
"This is the 3rd time I've heard you wake up from a dead sleep like this. You want to tell me what's been keeping you awake?" His voice had become stern, but in a caring, concerned way. Jake clasped his cane nervously, studying his claws.   
  
"My dad." He said quietly, swallowing back the lump forming in his throat. Had he the energy, he would have been pacing a hole in the floor. But it seemed as if his feet neither wanted nor had the strength to move.  
  
"What about your dad?" Chance asked softly, lowering his head to meet Jake's eyes. He had learned a week ago that his friend's dad had taken his own life before Jake graduated high school. Jake never talked much about him; Jake never talked much about anything that bothered him.  
  
"He," Jake started then shook his head. "I keep having this dream," He fidgeted nervously. "It's like I'm living that day over again." His voice trembled. "I thought," He swallowed again. "I thought that I'd just be able to forget about it, about what was said, what happened." He leaned back and covered his eyes with his paws, stretching the soft skin around his eyes in a futile attempt to keep control. "But I can't." Jake couldn't swallow back that lump this time. He just put his head in his hands and let himself fall apart. "He was right." He thought to himself. "I am pathetic."   
  
Chance bit his lip. He didn't know what to do really. His best friend, brother even was in pain. It wasn't the physical kind of pain. That he could handle easily. He got up and retrieved a roll of tissue from the bathroom.   
  
"Here," He handed Jake the tissue and sat down on the floor in front of him, leaning his back against the coffee table. "Now, tell me what happened." Jake narrowed his eyes in anguish and stared at his lap. "Look, Jake, if you're afraid I'm going to think you're weak or pick on you or whatever it is, I'm not. You're like a little brother to me. Whatever it is, I promise, I just want to help." Chance said with sincerity. He patted Jake on the knee. Jake took a deep breath and started to roll up the left sleeve of his t-shirt, revealing a thin scar on his shoulder. "Remember back in the academy when you asked what had happened to my shoulder?"  
  
Chance nodded. "Yeah, you said you couldn't remember, that it happened when you were really young." Jake nodded. "Well, what really happened was a glass beer bottle, the night my father shot himself."  
  
Chance listened intently as his friend related the events of that night. He had no idea the kind of torment Jake had been through, trying to lock this away to never think of it again. His strong blue eyes never blinked. They stayed focused on his friend, flickering between anger at a father who could treat his child that way, and sympathy for his friend.  
  
Jake finished, recounting how his father's blood and brain matter had splattered all over his face. A shiver shook his thin body and he sniffed back a couple of tears. He'd cried enough. Nervously, he raised his eyes to meet his friend's, ashamed of himself for breaking the way he had.  
  
"Jeez, Jake." Chance stood and paced a little. "What kind of person does that?" Jake frowned.  
  
"Yeah, I know, I'm sorry. Look I'm really sorry. Crud, I'm such a pathetic idiot." Jake mumbled, getting up. He should have known better than to try and tell anyone, let alone such a masculine kat as his friend, about it. Chance gave him a strange look as he headed back to bed. "Jake, yeah you are an idiot." Jake just lowered his head, ears falling flat against his head. "But not pathetic. You're an idiot because you think that I was talking about you." He put a large hand on Jake's shoulder and turned him around. "I meant your father." Jake gave an embarrassed laugh and leaned against the wall. "Man, you're a mess." Chance smiled playfully. "Go back to sleep." He pushed Jake towards his room with a smile. "I'll fix that door in the morning or something." The black stripes on Chance's arms accentuated his large biceps. Jake shook his head and started into his room, then turned around.   
  
"Hey Chance," Jake said quietly. "Thanks," He looked at his feet for a moment, "For being my friend." Before Chance could respond, Jake had disappeared into his room. He crossed his arms over his chest and smiled, those startling eyes still sparkling. Shaking his head, he decided to turn in as well. 


	2. chapter 2

Jake pulled the covers tighter in an attempt to stop shivering. Why was it so cold? He opened his eyes to see if he had opened the window or something and realized that he could see his breath!   
  
"Holy shit." He cursed to himself. The power was out completely. His feet touched the floor. The cold almost burned. Jake rubbed his arms, cursing, and hopped clumsily on one foot to the dresser. After a moment of digging, he pulled out a baggy sweat shirt and quickly pulled it over his head. Then he tucked one of his paws into his sleeve and used it as a glove so that the cold metal of his cane wasn't touching his paw. Shuddering, he hobbled out of the room in search of Chance.   
  
The house was silent and freezing. Outside, the power lines however were not covered in ice. There were a few flurries of snow falling, but nothing should have knocked out the power. Jake shook his head and pushed open Chance's bedroom door. Where else would Chance be but asleep? He was comparable to a polar bear.   
  
"Chance." Jake knocked on the door frame. His large friend snored a bit louder in response. "Chance!" Jake frowned and walked in. Standing as far from the bed as possible, he reached out with his cane and poked Chance in the arm. Before he could move away, a large blonde paw reached out swiftly and grabbed the end of the cane. "What?" He said gruffly, sitting up.   
  
"Power's out." Jake jerked his cane away from Chance. "See if you can get the turbo kat out and make sure the city's ok."   
  
"Well, Razor, it looks like something's smashed into the power plant." T-Bone said over the radio to his partner back at the hangar.   
  
Razor spun around in the swivel chair. The sound of the backup generator they had was a comfort. At least there was heat down here. "Any clue what it is? I'm having trouble adjusting the equipment to pick up what you're seeing."  
  
"That's a big negative, buddy. It's like there's some sort of magnet screwing up what I'm seeing. Say how do you feel about a fly around the city? I could use the technical support up here." T-Bone's voice crackled over the radio. Razor's eyes lit up.   
  
"Sure thing! I'll be waiting for ya when you get here."  
  
Razor's eyes were wide as the weapons panel glowed before him. With ease, he brought up the dimensional radar and was scanning the area for anything suspicious. He rubbed his eyes. It had been nearly 2 months since he'd experienced the g-force. He'd definitely need to spend some time in the simulator.   
  
"T-Bone, it looks like a major part of the interior is missing." He pressed a couple buttons as his pilot flew in lower. "But you're right, there's definitely something jamming it. I doubt it's magnetic though. If it were magnetic, more than the image would be screwing up."  
  
"Right. Well I'm landing this bird beside the building. Keep an eye on the radar and an ear on the radio while I take a walk around."  
  
Razor was silently thankful when the Turbo kat stopped moving. "Radio contact at all time," he said as T-Bone jumped out. The larger SWAT Kat gave him a thumbs up.   
  
T-Bone walked around the building. It was completely empty, a good thing. It could be dangerous. The door to the part of the power plant that had been blown up was laying on the floor, black from flames. "Buddy, you with me?"  
  
"Yeah." Razor's voice crackled over the radio. "But the closer you get to that room, the more your image seems to fade. Whatever is jamming my signal is in there. I'm not sure if we will be able to maintain radio contact while you're there so step in, say something and then if you don't get a response, step back out."  
  
"Roger that." T-Bone squinted his eyes as he stepped up to the door frame. Taking a deep breath he stepped through. The feeling of stepping into just a normal empty room wasn't there. Instead, it was as if he had passed through a bubble. He turned around and looked at the door he'd just passed through. It looked normal. He stuck his hand back through and pulled it back in.  
  
"Razor?"  
  
*static*  
  
"Razor!"  
  
"Copy." His voice was clear.  
  
"What were ya doing? Taking a nap?"  
  
"Funny. Actually, I was trying to adjust the wiring to see if I could bring up your image, but I can't. Give me a visual."  
  
T-Bone looked around. "Funny," he said, "I thought something blew up from the hole in the roof. But it's solid white in here. Not a spot anywhere." He walked around. "I don't know what to think of it. When I walked in it was like walking through a bubble."  
  
"Well walk out of that bubble. I've got a bad feeling about this." Razor's voice was low. T-Bone felt a cold chill run up his spine.  
  
"Yeah, you're right. Something isn't copasetic." He stepped out of the room, shivering at the warm slimy feeling. Shaking his head, he made his way outside.  
  
Razor leaned back in his seat as T-Bone climbed in. "I think we'll just head home. There's nothing we can do here." He frowned.  
  
"Yeah, T-Bone you're right. I'm picking up some radio transmissions. Sounds like the Enforcer's are on their way."  
  
T-Bone smiled, "Well then we better hurry up and leave before they blame us." He fired up the Turbo kat, smiling at the sound it made.   
  
************************************  
  
Razor groaned as his head jerked to the left. "Jake..." The voice seemed to echo. "Come on pal, wake up!" Razor slowly opened his eyes. "Oh, for the love of... Kat's Jake I've been trying to wake you up for the past 40 minutes!"  
  
He brought a paw to his face. His mask was gone. "40 minutes?" he asked softly. Chance nodded, eyes wide.   
  
"Why?" He pulled the covers back over his head. He was having the most wonderful dream.   
  
"Why? WHY?! Jake, its almost 11:00! I've got 4 cars in the garage. Now are you going to sleep all day or help me?" Chance had a wrench in one paw and a fresh grease stain on his nose. Jake looked him over and then rolled onto his stomach.  
  
"Jake..." Chance snarled. "You've got until the count of 3 before I make you get up. We've got a job to do and you've got to get your leg checked out in 2 hours." He received no response.  
  
"1..."  
  
Jake had already begun to drift off to sleep, his friend's voice was fading away.  
  
"2..." Chance bent down and carefully gripped the mattress. "3!"  
  
Jake gasped as his body hit the hard wood floor. The mattress landed back on the box-springs with a loud thump. He looked up, eyes wide. "Alright... I'm up."   
  
************************************  
  
Jake scrunched up his nose. The idiot owner of this car had obviously tried to fix it and had no clue what they were doing. No wonder it wouldn't start. He sighed and untangled a group of wires that had been taped together. His knee throbbed with pain, reminding him how 'fun' his appointment would be today considering all the strain he put on it at Chance's mother's house. As he worked, his mind drifted back to his dream. It had seemed so real, being back in the air. He hoped that by some miracle the doctor would say he was fine and could go back to his normal activities, but it wouldn't be true. If anything, by the end of the day, his knee would be killing him. He frowned and wiped his paws on a rag laying on the bumper of the car. Then he opened the driver's side door and turned the ignition. That was one less car to deal with today.  
  
Chance kicked the tire on the station wagon he was repairing. It was fried. Nothing could be done. "Well that's one more for the scrap pile." He frowned and picked up the phone to call the customer and tell them to look for a new ride.   
  
"Hey can you call this one too?" Jake asked, pointing his thumb at the Ford he'd just fixed. Chance tossed a look at the clock.  
  
"Yeah, go get cleaned up. We're gonna call it quits until after your appointment."   
  
Jake gave his friend a sarcastic salute and left the garage. Chance shook his head, "Man, I need a vacation." He muttered to himself.  
  
************************************  
  
Jake chewed nervously on a piece of gum. He'd had the x-ray already, that was the easy part. "Straighten your leg." He frowned, thankful Chance had decided to run a few errands until this was over. Jake stretched his leg out as best he could, although it was still far from straight. She gave him a look.  
  
"Okay, we'll have to do this the hard way." She put one paw on his knee and another under his calf muscle. Jake closed his eyes, tightening them as she started to straighten out his leg. His claws scratched the table he sat on. She'd only moved it a little when Jake's eyes shot open.  
  
"Stop!" He cried out. She frowned.   
  
"I know it's been only a few weeks, but by now you should have more mobility. It's not the muscles or the tendons." She sighed as a young nurse knocked on the door and handed her an envelope.   
  
She tapped her nose as she inspected the image of her patient's knee. Then she raised a long delicate finger to the picture. "There's the problem. Hairline fracture in your knee cap. The only thing I can do with that is keep your leg wrapped tight in a bandage and back in a brace to keep it straight." There was a knock at the door and Chance came in.   
  
"You almost ready?" He asked, newspaper under his arm. The doctor flashed him a sweet smile.   
  
"Just about. Have a seat." She motioned to a chair against the wall. The large kat shrugged and sat down.  
  
"Okay, you ready?" She frowned as she unrolled a wide strip of bandage. Jake nodded, letting out a long sigh.   
  
Chance winced at the gasps of pain coming from his friend.  
  
"You sure you got that tight enough?" Jake snarled. She smiled at him and pulled the bandage tighter.   
  
"As tight as this is, it shouldn't need a brace." She picked a needle off a metal tray along with a small vile of some clear liquid. Jake watched as she filled the syringe.  
  
"What's that for?" He narrowed his eyes.  
  
"Swelling and pain." Her voice was monotone as she pushed the air out of the needle.  
  
Jake folded his arms. "Well I think I've got enough of both so you can put that up."   
  
"If you'd like, I've got one of those guns the military uses to administer vaccines." She watched the 25 year olds face turn from stubborn to resigned.   
  
"Good." She rubbed a spot on his upper leg with an alcohol soaked cotton ball and then stuck the needle in. The liquid burned for a moment and then left his leg feeling momentarily sore. He frowned as she pulled out a box of Scaredy Kat band-aids.   
  
Chance couldn't contain his laughter any longer. The large kat grabbed his side in a howling fit, tears welling in his eyes as the doctor stuck the kiddy bandage to Jake's leg.  
  
"Done!" She chirped. Jake slid off the table.  
  
For a moment the room seemed to tilt and he grabbed out for something to keep his balance. A large blonde paw grasped his arm and held him up. "You might want to get him home. That shot's effects work quick. He's in for a long rest."   
  
Jake turned his head at her words. "Rest? What did you give me?" His words were starting to slur.  
  
"Jake, I gave you exactly what I said I gave you. It will help with the swelling and the pain, as well as give you a full night's sleep. It's obvious you're sleep deprived at the rate you're healing. I suggest you start getting more rest. It helps the body heal."   
  
Jake sighed and leaned heavily on his cane, Chance holding firmly onto his right arm to help keep him up.   
  
The ride home was in silence as Jake slept.  
  
************************************  
  
Chance stole a glance back into his buddy's room. He'd carried Jake in and put in bed, covering him with a blanket. Jake didn't know, but Chance had slipped a note in his file saying he'd not been sleeping well and that when he did sleep it was tormented. The shot wouldn't help Jake's leg much, but it would give him a peaceful, dreamless sleep.   
  
He smiled, softly whispering, "Goodnight, sure shot. Tomorrow, SWAT Kat rehabilitation begins." 


	3. chapter 3

Chance pounded the alarm clock and rolled out of bed. His back gave a loud crack as he stretched. Grayish orange light filled the room from the early sun. He scratched one of his ears and picked the sleep out of his right eye. His tail twitched slowly behind him in a sleepy motion.  
  
After his morning routine, he left the bathroom door half open and entered the kitchen. The window was covered in moisture from the warmth inside and the cold outside, changing the light in the room. Chance filled the coffee pot with water and added 4 scoops of fresh grounds to a clean filter before pushing the 'on' button. He frowned. All the coffee cups were in the sink. The dishes were Jake's job. Sighing, he filled the sink with hot water and resigned himself to doing the dishes just this once.  
  
Fifteen minutes later he held a warm steaming cup of fresh brew in his paws. Its aroma twirled into the air and up his nose to his brain. The door frame to Jake's room creaked slightly as Chance leaned against it. He studied the door that hung by one hinge and then drifted his gaze to the still figure laying in the bed. Jake hadn't moved an inch since yesterday afternoon. His chest rose and fell slowly, making soft purring noises in his sleep. He looked so young.  
  
Chance left the room briefly and returned with a screw driver. Jake's room was relatively clean, normally. As of late there were clothes on the floor and papers scattered about. Dust had settled on the normally spotless dresser and bedside table. He stepped in the cool, dark room and set his steaming mug on the dresser. Then he set the door back in place and replaced the hinge. Chance gave it a gentle swing and then smiled, satisfied with his work. "Alright Jake," he picked up his coffee and swallowed the remaining contents. "Time to start from scratch."  
  
*******************************  
  
Chance stopped the g-force simulator and smiled. "Finally," he crossed his arms over his chest as Jake stepped out. "I thought it would take all day for you to get used to that again." Jake rubbed the front of his head and blinked trying to get everything to stop spinning.  
  
"Does that mean I'm no longer stuck on the ground?" He plopped down into a chair. Chance shook his head.   
  
"No, you've got more work to do before you're ready. You're still woozy when you shouldn't be. But at least you're conscious. That's a start."  
  
"Aw, come on, Chance. Not even a test run?" Jake frowned. Chance narrowed his eyes.  
  
"No. Suppose something malfunctions and you have to eject? Your knee can't handle the force of a parachute landing. Or suppose we get a call and Dark Crud is trying to take over the city again? What are you gonna do? Sit in the jet?"  
  
"Yeah, I guess you're right." Jake's mouth was set in a hard line. He was a little angry. But not at Chance. It wasn't his fault, Jake had only himself to blame for his current situation. Chance gave him a hearty pat on the shoulder.   
  
"Ah, don't sweat it, Jake. You'll get you tolerance back up in no time." The two went back up stairs.  
  
*******************************  
  
Chance finished making a rather large sandwich and raised it to his mouth. His large jaws were about to clamp down around it when the alarm went. He frowned and was about to put his food back on the plate when the alarm was answered.  
  
"Yes, Miss Briggs?" Jake asked into the speaker hooked up into the kitchen.   
  
"It's Hard Drive again. I'm afraid he's escaped and is cutting the power to the city. If we don't do something soon, kats are going to freeze with out heat."  
  
Chance swallowed the last of his sandwich and in his 'hero' voice said, "I'm on my way." He gave Jake a hard glare for pouting, then gave him a gruff pat on the shoulder. "Hold down the fort will ya buddy?" Jake nodded and watched Chance go down into the hanger.   
  
*******************************  
  
Jake half laid on the couch watching the live news. He sighed and then groaned. A feeling of restlessness swelled in the pit of his stomach. For a few seconds he couldn't even seem to stay still. Then his eyes widened as Ann Gora's cameraman zoomed in on a shot of Hard Drive sucking energy from the jet.   
  
"He needs my help!" Jake sat up as the jet started to spiral downward. Gritting his teeth, he hastened to the hanger. For a moment he started to pull out his gear, but better judgment won. He settled for his communicator.  
  
"T-Bone." Jake said into it, receiving static in return.  
  
"T-Bone!" He said a little louder and yet still received no response. "Damn it! T-Bone answer me!" Fear rose in his voice. After receiving no answer he slipped into his flight suit, loosening the bandage so that he could bend his knee, a task that was more difficult than he planned on.  
  
*******************************  
  
Razor revved the cyclotron loudly as he sped down Main Street. The jet wasn't in the sky, so it had to be somewhere on the ground. But why wasn't he picking it up on radar? "Come on buddy, where are you?" He said quietly to himself. Then finally it bleeped on the radar. He turned the loud bike down a side street and was coming up fast on the Turbokat, when the villain of the day made his appearance.  
  
Hard Drive sent a bolt of electricity towards Razor. The SWAT Kat swerved and fired an octopus missile at the electrical maniac and watched as several volts of electricity fried his coat. He was about to leave the scene when a massive electrical current shot from Hard Drive's jacket and threw him off the Cyclotron. Razor hissed in pain as he slid a few feet on his left side, tearing his suit and his skin.  
  
"I thought I told you to hold down the fort." A stern voice came over his radio. T-Bone did a fly over before setting the jet in hover mode beside his partner. Razor didn't say anything. It was probably better to keep his mouth shut anyway. T-Bone jumped out, landing softly on his feet. He tossed a look to the unconscious form of Hard Drive. Sighing, he pulled the kat out of the coat and tied him up. Then he gave the coat a swift kick, causing it to fly into the air and get hung on a sign. Then he cracked his knuckles as he turned to his partner, who was now standing near the motorcycle. T-Bone narrowed his eyes. "You're not riding that home. Secure it in the launch bay and get in." Razor groaned but did as told.  
  
"You think you're ready for this?" T-Bone asked his partner as he flipped a few switches.  
  
"I think I proved I could handle it." Razor replied smugly, his pride shoving common sense out of the way.   
  
"Proved you could handle what, Razor? Hard Drive or the ground?" The larger kat retorted, giving a satisfied sniff as his partner grunted from the force of them taking off.  
  
"What about you? You didn't answer me when he hit the jet with one of those bolts." Razor said through gritted teeth.  
  
"Razor, it was Hard Drive. Mayor Manx could handle Hard Drive! You were just looking for an excuse to try and prove yourself." He banked the jet. If Razor was ready to be back in the air, then this would be a Sunday ride for him.  
  
"I wasn't trying to prove anything! I thought you needed help!" He closed his eyes as T-Bone barrel-rolled. If he thought his partner was just going to ask him to stop, then he was wrong. Razor wasn't going to give in.  
  
T-Bone twitched his nose, then decided to try a simple climb and then drop.   
  
Razor felt his stomach jump into his stomach as the jet soared upward. His mouth became dry and then spots began to dance in his vision.  
  
"Alright," he half closed his eyes, defeat in his voice. "You win." His voice slurred out as he slipped into darkness. 


	4. chapter 4

Jake stood in the cold empty room. It was dark, but his body seemed to glow and he was trembling. He looked at his paws shaking then raised his eyes as another luminescent kat appeared in front of him. He was tall with a gut and wore a business suit.  
  
"You're so pathetic, standing there sniveling like a kitten."  
  
"Father?" Jake gasped.  
  
"Useless," his father smiled. "You can't even stay awake. You wasted your life on something you can't do right." Jake shook his head, "That's not true. I just need to practice."  
  
"Failure."  
  
Jake shook his head. "No I'm not! I can do this. I don't have to prove anything to you! You're dead!"  
  
His father laughed, "Yes, son, I am, and you killed me."  
  
"No I didn't," Jake growled.   
  
"Oh come on, son. I may have pulled the trigger. But you drove me to madness, you and your inability to do things right." He was nose to nose with his shivering son. "It seems as if things haven't changed. Except now you don't have anyone around to kick your ass into gear when you slack off. Maybe I should give you a little reminder." He reared back and slapped his son hard across the face.  
  
***********************************  
  
Jake sat up with a gasp, icy cold water dripping off his face and onto his flight suit. He was laying on the bench in front of their lockers, his mask and helmet on the floor. Chance stood in front of him, empty bucket in paw. He met his eyes.  
  
"Feel better?" Chance set the bucket down and crossed his arms. Jake started to reply but Chance cut him off.  
  
"I sure hope you do. After that stunt, I hope you feel good about yourself for the next year." The sarcasm dripped from his mouth like saliva. "Did you get all that out of your system?" He squared his shoulders and sat down, straddling the bench, facing his friend. "Jake, you're smart, hell, you're probably bordering on super genius! So why can't you just stay here?"  
  
Jake watched the worry flicker in his friend's sapphire eyes. He lowered his own with a sigh. "Chance, I..."  
  
"No, Jake. I don't want to hear your reasoning." He stood and ran a paw through his messy blonde hair. He sighed. "I'm going out for a bit. Promise me, if anything comes up, just leave it alone? I don't need you getting hurt any more than you are." He headed up stairs. "I don't care if its a 20 story kat-eating plant. Let the enforcers handle it."  
  
***********************************  
  
Chance leaned on the bar, waiting for the bartender to get to him when a familiar voice boomed behind him.  
  
"Chance! Buddy! How ya been!" A thin, but equally blond furred kat clapped a large paw on Chance's shoulder.   
  
"Clifton! What are you doing here?" It was his older brother. "How's the farm holding up in the cold?"  
  
Clif frowned. "I'm short handed for the winter. What about the garage and that friend of yours?" He smiled as he paid for their drinks.  
  
"Too much work." He frowned, "We both could use a break from the monotony. And Jake... he's been acting odd since his mom's death and all. And that knee. He's getting irritated easily." He took a long pull on his beer. "To be honest, I'm actually pretty worried about him. He's lost a lot of weight, been going a few days without eating, drinking nothing but carbonated stuff to keep him awake." Chance shook his head. "We both could use a nice long break from it all." His brother smiled.  
  
"Say, I could use some help. Maybe you guys could come up for a couple of weeks. It's work, but it's different. A change of scenery is always good and the labor would keep Jake's mind off all his problems, even help his knee."  
  
***********************************  
  
Jake popped open a can of orange soda and tossed a few sleeping pills into his mouth, not really paying attention to how many. He made a face at the bitter taste of the pills and set the can back on the coffee table before turning on the television. After a moment, he got up to retrieve a bottle of pain killers he'd saved and a pillow. Finally, he was comfortable. The woozy feelings swept over his body, leaving him feeling more than slightly nauseas from not eating before hand. Sighing, he turned onto his stomach on the couch and closed his eyes.  
  
***********************************  
  
Clifton followed his brother into the warm building, still laughing from some thing or another. The early morning chill made his whiskers twitch. Chance stopped abruptly in the kitchen facing the living room. Clif looked over his shoulder to see Jake's arm hanging off the couch. Chance half closed his eyes and shook his head slowly. "Poor guy," he thought seeing the two orange colored bottles laying open on the coffee table. He knelt down on the faded rug and gave his friend a gentle shake, receiving only a quiet moan in response. "Out cold," he muttered.   
  
"Hey Clif, there's a heavy green blanket on my bed, can you grab it?"  
  
Clif nodded and turned down the small hallway, easily finding his brother's room. He half chuckled at a Scaredy Kat comic laying on the small table by the bed and then grabbed the comforter. Once back in the living room, he draped it over the thin kat laying on the couch.   
  
"That's Jake?" He questioned with a small gasp. Chance nodded. "When you said he'd lost some weight, I had no idea how obvious it would be." Clif furrowed his brow. Even in his sleep, there were dark circles under Jake's eyes. His brown fur was thin in spots where agitation had caused him to shed and his clothes had appeared a few sizes too big.   
  
Chance hit the back of his leg on the coffee table knocking over the open bottle of pain killers. "I guess he didn't trash all of them." He said quietly picking up the bottle and reading the label, snorting at the sticker that read 'do not take on an empty stomach'. He stared at the bottle, thinking for a moment. When had Jake eaten last? Sunday. He knew the answer immediately. Sighing, he put the bottle back down and capped it, then he and his brother went off to pack some things for the next two weeks.   
  
***********************************  
  
Jake woke up to a throbbing pain in his head and a turning in his stomach. For a moment he wondered if he'd be seeing last night's dinner, but then he remembered he hadn't had dinner last night, or the night before for that matter. Unable to remember his last meal, he groaned and sat up. Chance set a blue duffel bag in his chair.   
  
"Hey, buddy. How you feeling?" He sat down on the couch beside Jake, who as if on cue, hiccupped and made a face. Chance frowned. "You should eat something."   
  
Jake made another face followed by another hiccup. "What's," he stopped feeling his stomach churn violently; he swallowed. "What's with the bag." Chance gave a hearty smile.  
  
"We're leaving the garage for a couple of weeks. My brother needs some help on his farm. And the time away from all this mess will do us both some good."  
  
"A farm?" Jake frowned as Chance's grin widened.  
  
"Yep, city boy, a farm." He laughed.  
  
Jake grimaced and stood up.  
  
"Where are you going?" Chance frowned.  
  
"To get dre..." Jake stopped and darted into the kitchen, which was much closer than the bathroom.  
  
Clifton looked up from the city paper he was reading as Jake leaned over the sink gagging and dry-heaving.  
  
"That's what happens when you don't eat," he said folding the paper casually. "Or when you don't drink more than soda for that matter," he added.  
  
Chance smirked and pulled a bottle of water out of the fridge, then leaned against the counter. "Jake you remember my brother Clifton." He held to bottle out to his friend.  
  
Jake responded by making another loud gagging sound as his stomach rejected some bile and acid. His throat burned. Chance made an ill face and turned on the faucet. "That's disgusting," he handed Jake the water. Jake grunted in agreement and took a sip of water. It was ice cold on his burning throat and it seemed to chill him to the bone. He shivered and leaned weakly against the counter. His cheeks burned slightly under his friend's hard gaze. Chance shook his head.  
  
"Your stuff is packed already." He looked at Jake, who was wearing a pair of baggy gray sweat pants and a long sleeved Bike-toberfest shirt. "Once you get dressed we'll go get lunch." Jake sighed at Chance's need to look presentable.  
  
"Since when is lunch a black-tie affair?" He muttered on his way to his room, stopping in the door way. He sighed at the mess of clothes and drawings on the floor. "Man, I need to clean this up." He said to himself, then added, "Maybe later..." After realizing Chance had packed most of his clothes, and a short search, he found a mostly clean pair of black jeans, a silver chain still hung from the belt loop. Shrugging, he pulled them on and hooked his wallet to the chain. He made a soft grunting noise as they barely hung on his body. Not bothering to change his shirt, he grabbed the worn green denim bag sitting on his bed and left his room.  
  
***********************************  
  
Jake tossed his bag into the back seat of the Mercury Sable. Until now, they'd been just using the tow truck because of the ice on the road, but it had melted by now.  
  
"Just follow us out, Clif." Chance said to his brother as he climbed into his pick up.  
  
"Where are we eating?" Jake asked nonchalantly as he climbed into the passenger side of the car. Chance opened the driver's side and got in as well.  
  
"That burger place in the middle of town." He started the car.  
  
***********************************  
  
Jake leaned against the metal bar separating the lines at the Super Burger. Chance was placing their order.  
  
"3 Bacon Double Tuna Melt Combos, Extra Large." Jake's eyes got big; he couldn't eat that much.  
  
"Chance, I..." He whispered but was cut off.  
  
"Right, right... No Mayo on one of those!" He paid for the food and handed Jake a cup. "And you will eat all of it too." His voice was stern.  
  
Jake sat across from Chance and Clifton. He raised his sandwich to his mouth and started to bite down, but pulled away. Using a claw, he plucked off the top bun and frowned. Just as he had suspected: mayonnaise. Sighing, he grabbed a plastic spoon and began scraping it off, ignoring the amused looks on the faces of the two brothers.  
  
"Ignorant she-kat," he muttered, "can't even get a sandwich right." He pieced it back together and took a bite out of the tuna melt, making a face. It still had that flavor to it. He swallowed it anyway, wincing as it scratched his raw throat.  
  
"So what exactly will we be doing in the next to weeks?" The slim kat finally asked.  
  
"Well," Clifton said taking a large bite out of his own sandwich, "lots of things. There's repairs that need to be done, stable needs cleaning, Christmas decorations to put up. With Carla pregnant, she can't do much. Even with your knee, there's still a lot you can do." Jake smirked, then frowned. Christmas? Then it dawned on him. He'd completely lost track of time, with cold weather coming early and his knee and his mother...   
  
"... and of course you'll be going to church with us." Jake shook his head and then shot Chance a questionable look. The large tom smirked.  
  
"Don't look at me buddy, it's his place, his rules. Besides," He playfully slugged Jake on the shoulder. "You could use some religion."   
  
Jake shook his head and reached for a fry, surprised to find he'd finished off all his food.  
  
***********************************  
  
Jake shifted in his seat, trying to stretch out his leg. It was a long drive to Clifton's, and more than once he'd started to doze off, receiving a light punch on the arm to wake him up. He couldn't believe he'd lost track of the days. Sighing, he resigned himself to being uncomfortable.  
  
"Chance, if Clifton lives all the way out here, in the middle of B.F.E., what was he doing in the city?" He tried unsuccessfully to stifle a yawn as he asked. Chance swerved the car to miss a pot hole then answered.  
  
"Christmas shopping. There aren't many stores out his way. But its beautiful for the holiday." He gestured to all the snow blanketing the ground despite the above freezing temps.   
  
"So this is where you run off to every year?" Jake surmised, his voice quiet.  
  
Chance smiled. "Yep. Every Christmas Eve I drive all the way out here. And every year, Jake 'the Grinch' Clawson stays home... alone." He teased, then grew serious. "What's up with that anyway? You have family... well at the time you did."   
  
Jake sort of stared at his paws. "Never got an invitation." He shifted nervously. "Look, Chance, I've been a total idiot lately. And I know all this family stuff means a lot to you, so let's just drop this before it turns ugly." He never raised his voice about the quiet tone, however, Chance couldn't help but shiver at the amount of sadness in that kat's voice.  
  
"Jeez, Jake, I didn't know anyone could be so touchy about Christmas. Your family must have really screwed it up for you." Jake didn't respond, just stared out the window the rest of the way to Clifton's.  
  
***********************************  
  
It was dark by the time they pulled up to the house at the end of a very long dirt driveway. Jake got out of the car and stared up at the large white farm house. A sudden breeze drew a small drift of snow into his face. He shivered and followed Chance inside.   
  
"Chance!" A very pregnant, petite red haired she-kat bustled over, arms open for a hug.  
  
"Carla!" He hugged her and then stepped back. "Whoa, expecting twins?" She laughed.  
  
"Nope, just one bun in this oven! And you must be Jake!" Jake's eyes burst open when she pulled him into an embrace. He hugged back gently. "Ugh, skin and bones!" She teased then closed the door behind them. "You look absolutely exhausted!" She fussed. Jake scratched the back of his head nervously.  
  
"Actually, some sleep would do him good. It was all I could do to keep him awake on the way here." Chance said quietly.   
  
Clara smiled warmly, "Well Chance you know your way around, take him upstairs to one of the guest rooms."  
  
***********************************  
  
Jake sat down on the large bed and traced a hand made quilt with a claw. "Well, she's really nice." He said quietly. Chance smiled.   
  
"Yeah well, get used to the hugs. Between Mom and I, this whole family knows about you and they've been dieing to meet you." He set Jake's bag down on a large oak dresser. "Go ahead and get some rest, Clif will probably have us up early." He put his paw on the door. "Oh, and Jake?" Jake looked up.   
  
"Hope you can sleep without all the lights and traffic, because your sleeping pills are at home." He watched Chance leave and close the door with a silent 'click'. Jake sighed and pulled back the sheets on the bed. He kicked off his jeans and then draped them over the footboard, then he slid underneath the warm sheets and clicked off the light, falling into a deep sleep almost as soon as his head touched the soft feather pillow.  
  
***********************************  
  
Carla handed the guys each a steaming cup of coffee. "Poor dear," She said sitting down. "No wonder he looks so bad, losing all his family in such a short time." Then she giggled. "Oh, I don't know what he must have thought, the way I hugged him."  
  
Chance laughed. "Well, you did miss the frightened look on his face. I'll tell you this, for someone that comes from such a cold, distant family, Jake can be pretty emotionally driven." He sipped his coffee. "He'll warm up to you, just give him a few days." He set his cup in the sink. "Well, I think I'm going to turn in." He said his goodnights, receiving another hug from his brother and another from his sister-in-law. 


	5. chapter 5

Thank you everyone for your reviews. Keep in mind that this is serious AU stuff. I'm sure the writers of the SWAT Kats didn't intend for Jake to have such a shady past, but that's what makes fan fiction wonderful. Anyway, Chance and Clifton find it surprisingly easy to get Jake to open up, and they learn a lot about him.  
  
***********************************  
  
Chance sat down at the large table. Carla had out done herself with breakfast, and the house was filled with the smell of cinnamon pancakes, eggs, bacon, sausage, biscuits, and coffee.  
  
"Where's Jake?" She asked, setting plates on the table. Chance looked at the stairs, hearing the tapping of a metal cane.  
  
"Coming."  
  
************************  
  
Jake winced as he stepped down one more stair. His knee was swollen badly and very sore from that spill he had taken. His entire left leg felt bruised. Finally, he got to the last step. Sighing he limped into the kitchen. The smell of food was intoxicating.  
  
"Good morning, sleepy head!" Carla chirped, "Scrambled eggs for you..." She set his plate of eggs on the table. Jake thanked her and sat down next to Chance.   
  
"Sleep good?" He asked, slouching comfortable in his chair.  
  
"Actually, yeah." Jake had to admit, he felt refreshed despite his knee. They both turned their heads at the sound of a car door outside.   
  
"Rita's here!" Carla rushed to the door. Jake was beginning to wonder if her voice was ever anything other than happy. He pushed away from the table and went to greet Chance's mother. Chance followed close behind him.  
  
"Boys!" A bright smile lit her face as she set down her packages and pulled them both into one big hug. Clifton carried in the rest of her things and closed the door behind him.   
  
"I'll put these in your room later. Let's eat!" He hung his coat up and rushed everyone into the dining room.   
  
Jake took his seat, Rita to his right and Chance to his left. Clifton cleared his throat as he sat down catching Jake's amber eyes. Jake looked around, realizing everyone had their heads bowed. Mouthing a silent "oh" he bowed his own as well and Clifton started reciting some blessing. He stared nervously at his paws in his lap, wondering what it was like for Chance, growing up in such a close-knit family. A part of him felt jealous that he, himself, hadn't come from such a loving home. But then Chance had always treated him like a brother, and now this family was the only family he knew. He just couldn't understand how they could just so willingly accept what his own had labeled a failure and a waste of breath. Jake raised his head at the 'amen' and picked up his fork. He wasn't too hungry, but ate plenty anyway not wanting to seem ungrateful.   
  
"Come on, I'll show you." Clifton stood up and led Chance out to show him the work on the roof that needed to be done. They had been talking about it before hand. Carla stood up and started to pick up the plates. Jake stopped her hand from taking his and stood up.   
  
"I've got it." He said quietly, adding, "You're a wonderful cook."   
  
She smiled and turned to Rita, "Well, how about that?" She laughed and turned her head to the kitchen, seeing Jake rinse off the dishes and put them into the dishwasher. "Thank you dear!" She said, still smiling. Jake's cheeks flushed and he smiled back at her. Carla turned back to Rita, "He's a quiet one." Rita laughed. "Oh, you just need to let him warm up to you. He's just shy. Come on, help me wrap the rest of my gifts." The plump she-kat stood up and went to her bags in the foyer. "I got some things for the baby, its a shame he isn't due until after Christmas."  
  
Jake heard the two ladies go up the stairs after a few minutes and their voices became muffled by the sound of a door closing. A genuine smile lit his features. He started the dishwasher and wiped off the counters, then put some shoes on and a coat and went outside.  
  
***********************************  
  
Chance had already started nailing down the new shingles when a Clifton finished throwing the broken ones onto the ground. Chance cracked his knuckles and handed his brother the hammer. "Here, you hammer, I'll get the rest of snow off the roof." He picked up a shovel and scooped up the soft white powder.  
  
"Need any help up there?" Jake called from the ground. Chance smiled and looked down.  
  
"Yeah, hang on I need you to catch something." He grinned and scooped up some snow, packing it into a tight ball. "You ready?" He yelled down to his friend.  
  
"Yeah, I'm re..." The ball of snow caught Jake in the shoulder. "Hey!" He wiped it off. "Two can play that game." Jake said to himself and balled up some snow. "Hey Chance!" The burly kat turned around.   
  
"What?" He asked just before his laughter was cut short by a snowball to the mouth. "Hey no face shots!" He was about to scoop up some more snow into his large paws when Clifton stopped him.   
  
"Bro, stop it before you fall off the roof." Clifton was the eldest of five kittens and was always bailing Chance out of trouble.   
  
"Aw, sorry Jake. My brother says I can't play today." Chance pouted playfully. Jake frowned wondering what exactly he was supposed to do now.   
  
"Hey Jake, if you want, we could use someone to hand us stuff out the attic window so we don't have to keep climbing in." Clifton hollered down to the slim kat.   
  
***********************************  
  
Jake sat on the window sill, one foot hanging out the window watching Chance help re-shingle the roof.   
  
"You ever fixed a roof, Jake?" Clifton asked with a nail in his mouth. Jake frowned.  
  
"No." Jake didn't feel like going into detail about how his father would just pay a professional to do it. He hated the wealthy kitten-hood he'd lived through and didn't want to come off sounding like he was showing off.  
  
"How's his balance with that knee?" Clif's second question was directed towards Chance. Chance's ears twitched for a moment.  
  
"Good enough to help if that's what you're asking." Chance nailed down a shingle. Clifton smiled.   
  
"That's EXACTLY what I'm asking. The three of us can get this done in no time and start on everything else." Clifton waved his hand out at the horse stable and the pasture. Chance shrugged and helped Jake onto the roof. Once the thin Kat got his footing right, Chance began to explain to Jake what he was supposed to do. Jake raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Chance, I'm a genius. I design and build weapons. I think I can nail a shingle on without a detailed 'how-to'." Jake gave a sarcastic smile. Chance narrowed his eyes and smiled.   
  
"You're lucky you're on top of this roof AND already injured, because I would have thrown you off for that one." He crossed his arms and flashed his cheeky grin.  
  
Soon all three of them were working hard on the roof. For some time, it was silence except for the pounding of the hammers. Clifton took the nail out of his mouth and pounded it into the roof.  
  
"I can't imagine what it would be like to grow up and not have had chores like this to do." His drawl was thicker than Chance's, who's accent had lessened from city life. Jake narrowed his eyes.   
  
"Boring." Jake's hammer smashed down on the head of a nail. "I think," he placed another shingle down. "That if I had things like this to keep me busy, it would have probably kept me out of a lot of trouble." He kept his eyes low.   
  
Chance stopped hammering and looked at Jake. "I don't think I could picture you doing anything wrong on purpose." Jake just sort of chuckled to himself and kept his attention focused on the task at hand.   
  
"You didn't know me before my... before the academy." He had started to say 'before my father died', but judging from the look in Chance's blue eyes, he had understood. Chance tossed a look to his brother then, with a smirk, looked up at Jake.  
  
"So what kind of trouble?" The thought of Jake's conscience not getting the better of him intrigued Chance. So, despite the hard, focused look in his friend's eyes, he pried further.  
  
"Oh just your normal acts of teenage rebellion, if you can think of something stupid to do, I've probably tried it." Jake sort of smiled to himself, but it quickly faded. "In truth, I really ruined all my chances of getting scholarships and what-not because of it all."  
  
Chance narrowed his eyes. "But what about that thing with MIT that you mentioned? The one you and your dad got into that huge fight about."   
  
Jake smashed his thumb with the hammer at the mention of his father. With a short hiss, he looked up, then frowned. "Seriously, on my own, I had no chance of going. I mean, sure I have the smarts. They would have probably had me giving lectures by now. Despite all the stupid shit I pulled in high school, money talks. And my parents had enough to buy my way into any school." Jake shook his head.   
  
Clifton looked up. "Why give all that up? Sure, the Enforcers were great, lots of benefits. But aren't there more benefits from a college degree?"  
  
Jake sighed. "Of course there's more benefits from a college degree, but what good does it do if you don't have the ambition to accomplish it? Straight out of high school, everyone has the world at their fingertips. But if you don't have that desire to take hold of that opportunity, you've got nothing." He hammered in another shingle. "Take Chance for example." Chance raised an eyebrow. "Chance, you wanted to be a pilot more than anything. It's what your father was, what your grandfather was, and it's what you are. You wanted it, you went after it, and you got it. That's ambition. I didn't have that. What I had was this insane desire to do everything the opposite of what was expected of me." Jake leaned against the chimney and continued. "You didn't know my parents. Chance barely knew my mother and my sister and my father died before Chance knew me. They were the kind of kats that expected a certain level of respect from their social level. If anything threatened to bring disgrace to their name, they became defensive, even paranoid. I was that threat. Dad said don't do drugs. I did drugs. Mom said be a gentlemen. I was a player. They'd say be home by 10. I'd stroll in about 4 the next afternoon hung over as hell and blazed off my tail. Now, don't get me wrong, it wasn't like I had no respect for authority. I just don't have respect for snobs. And that's why my parents were."  
  
Chance had a deep frown on his face. This was a part of Jake he hadn't known. "What made you change all that?"   
  
Jake sat quiet for a second and then met his friend's eyes. "My dad's suicide."  
  
Clifton looked up from his work. "Well, I suppose that would drive a kat to make an improvement in his life."  
  
Jake shook his head. "Well, the improvement was a result of the damage."  
  
"What do you mean?" Chance had devoted his full attention to the conversation. Apparently, Jake had quite a few skeletons in his closet. It was odd hearing him open up like this.  
  
"Chance, you know how my mom was, calling me up, blaming me for every evil in the world. My dad was the same way. The day he pulled the trigger, drunk or not, he blamed me. I was there. He blamed me, then my mother blamed me, and of course my sister blamed me. By the day after the funeral I blamed me for it all. That night, I went on this binge. Even now I can't remember how much I drank, but I'm positive there wasn't a drop of liquor left in the cabinet or in the fridge. Honestly, I can't remember anything after mixing vodka and gin, woke up in the hospital a week later. I had so many drugs in my system that they actually had to inject it into my bloodstream just to keep me alive. Spent the rest of my senior year in rehab and half of boot camp taking drug tests just to prove I was over it."  
  
"Jeez, buddy." Chance didn't really know what to say. "All this time, I would have never guessed that you of all kats would have ever in your life had a problem like that." He thought about all the illegal drug shipments they had busted as the SWAT Kats. For a moment, he just couldn't picture Jake of all kats as that kind. "I remember in the academy, you would never come out partying with us, instead you'd show up about the time we'd be leaving and drive us all home. I always wondered how you could turn down a night out like that. Weren't you even the slightest bit tempted?" Chance nailed down the last of the shingles.   
  
"Of course I was tempted, but the drugs? I couldn't touch the stuff. Even now, when we make our rounds, the smell of it makes me ill. The alcohol, I'm fine as long as someone doesn't offer to buy me a drink at a party. You remember New Year's Eve." Jake stared down at the yard covered in snow.  
  
Chance laughed. "Oh yeah, I remember." He looked at Clifton. "Some old friend of mine invited us to a party. After a few drinks and a couple of poker games, I was ready to head home, but this one," He pointed a thumb at Jake, "couldn't find him for nearly an hour. Finally found him in the bathroom, an empty bottle of Jose Cuervo laying in the sink and him passed out on the floor." Chance shook his head. A conversation from when they first started at the salvage yard came to mind. Jake had told him that he didn't care what was in the house as long as Chance didn't keep alcohol there. Of course, he had promised, and to this day he had kept that promise. Now he knew why and he was glad he kept it out of the house.  
  
"Okay, well the roof is done. On to the next task." Clifton climbed into the attic window and helped Jake back inside, followed by Chance.  
  
***********************************  
  
Jake lay on the couch, left leg stretched out and bandaged tightly over his knee. His fur was still a little damp from the hot shower he'd just taken. Chance had wrapped his knee for him, making sure to get it snug. After that, the blonde haired kat had left the living room to help out in the kitchen. Jake had offered to help but Rita and Carla fussed over his knee being swollen and refused to let him leave the couch until dinner was ready. He didn't mind. In fact, for once, he was content to just flip aimlessly through channels. It wasn't like he was paying a whole lot of attention to the shows on anyway. He felt somewhat embarrassed to have opened up that way earlier, but he felt completely comfortable around Chance and his family. Not once did Clifton or Chance say one bad thing about the things he'd done. It made him a little nervous, though, and he had to admit, the only time family had not belittled him was because of some hidden agenda.  
  
"You wonder why I never let you have the control at home. I wouldn't get to watch a single program." Chance sat on the floor in front of the couch. Jake handed him the remote.  
  
"There's nothing good on anyway." He crossed his arms behind his head.  
  
"You're only saying that because Litterbin isn't on yet." Chance immediately found some deranged cartoon to watch. Jake made a scoffing sound. Chance grinned and then said quietly, "so what was that all about earlier today? How come you never told me before?"  
  
Jake frowned, "I don't know really. I guess I'm just tired of harboring all these secrets. You said yourself that we're like brothers. I've never had anyone actually take an interest in my life. And when Clif asked me what it was like not having to do the chores we had to do today, I guess it just felt like the right moment to let it out." His voice held a large amount of uncertainty in it, as if a part of him deeply regretted sharing so much of himself. He felt vulnerable and Chance could tell. It was written all over his face and obvious in his nervous movements.  
  
"Any other deep secrets you'd like to share?" Chance paid no attention to the television.   
  
Jake shrugged. "What do you want to know? My life's an open book." His voice held that low, emotionless tone it seemed to carry lately.  
  
"How long were you on drugs?" Chance turned to face Jake who sighed deeply.  
  
"2 and a half years. I'm guessing your next question is what drugs?" Jake stared at the ceiling. Seeing Chance nod sternly out of the corner of his eyes, he continued. "Weed, coke, X. I dropped acid a couple of times and heroin once. The night after my dad's funeral, I smoked a dime bag of weed and did three lines of coke... that I remember."  
  
"Since rehab, have you done any?" Chance was more concerned than curious. Jake sighed again.  
  
"Once." He saw Chance's ears flick back. "Well, I'm not going to lie to you, and you did ask."   
  
"When?" Chance had a feeling he knew when but he wanted to hear it from Jake.  
  
Jake wanted to get angry at Chance for prying, but he had said he would tell him whatever he wanted to know. "Last year, when that friend of mine was in town. You remember when I came home with that massive headache..."  
  
"Yeah I remember." Chance was disappointed. "What were you thinking?" He couldn't say he was angry, Jake had been dealing with a lot at the time.  
  
"I don't know, with that bull between Leslie and my mom calling to complain. When Ruben showed up, I just had this sort of breakdown. I remember just wishing I could stop thinking for just one minute. You know? Just to shut it all out. It was stupid, but stupidity is a small price to pay for peace." He sighed and continued. "But I paid for it later. Having stayed away from it for so long, it didn't sit well with me." He mentally recalled how bad his head had hurt that night. "But that's the only time I've touched it since rehab."  
  
"And the drinking? Is that why you don't want it in the house?" Chance wasn't sure how many questions he had but he felt he deserved to know everything.  
  
"Pretty much. I can't say that I completely trust myself not to over-do it, especially lately." He caught Chance's gaze. "Look, if you're worried, don't be. I know I'm not the best at making decisions regarding my own welfare, but it's out of my system. I'm over it."  
  
Chance sat crossed legged on the floor facing Jake. "What about your sleeping habits? Side effect of that binge?"  
  
"No. I've always had trouble sleeping. It's a side effect of being brilliant. I can't seem to stop thinking sometimes just to sleep." Jake felt a dull ache in his head. He wanted to go upstairs and sleep, but he didn't want to move. His knee was very swollen, and pressure from the bandaged caused his leg to burn with pain. He pushed himself up slowly into a sitting position, hissing with pain. His back ached and his knee was sore.   
  
"Mom's staying here, so I moved your stuff into my room. I hope you don't mind; but we'll have to share a bed." Jake gave him a frown. "Don't worry it's a king bed."  
  
"You snore." Jake's back popped as he stood up, leaning heavily on his cane for support.  
  
"So do you." Chance headed to the stairs, hearing Jake yawn and follow behind him. 


	6. chapter 6

Jake sat on his bed, knees drawn up and an ashtray beside him. Between his index finger and thumb he held a smoking joint. Bringing it to his lips, he took a long draw off it, letting the smoke fill his lungs and the drugs go to his brain. Then he exhaled, coughing a little. He took the blunt in his other hand and reached over the side of the bed, pulling up a large bottle of Colt 45, stolen from the fridge on his way upstairs after school. He twisted off the top and chugged it down. As he replaced the cap, the door flew open.   
  
"Shit." Jake cursed loudly, spilling the malt liquor onto the weed.  
  
"What the hell is this?!" His father's eyes were wide.  
  
"It's not what it looks like, I swear!" Jake squeaked nervously.  
  
James picked up the scrawny 15 year old by his neck. "Oh? Well explain. What is it?" Jake tried to get out some excuse but he couldn't even breath. Instead he flailed his arms and legs hoping to get loose. It was in vain. His father tossed him against the wall.   
  
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Chance came back upstairs carrying a glass of water. He set it down on the table and started to crawl into his side of the bed when Jake's head jerking back and forth caught his attention.  
  
************************************  
  
"This" James held up the half empty bottle of Colt 45, "belongs to me." He took a swig. "That's an odd flavor."   
  
Jake pressed his back against the wall, shaking as his father picked up the ashtray and sniffed it.   
  
"What a peculiar odor." He picked up Jake's backpack and dumped it out, plucking up a clear plastic sandwich bag with a certain substance in it. He opened it and took a whiff. "Just as I thought." He poured it into the alcohol and swirled it around. "Get up."  
  
Jake did not hesitate. His father thrust the bottle into his hands.  
  
"Drink it."   
  
"What?"  
  
"Are you deaf as well as stupid?? I said drink it!"   
  
"Are you crazy?" Jake's eyes were wide.  
  
************************************  
  
Chance turned on the lamp and scooted next to Jake. "Jake." He whispered, and reached out a hand to shake him, realizing Jake was already shaking. He narrowed his eyes. Jake was having another nightmare. "Come on Jake, wake up." He said above a whisper, giving the younger kat a rough shake.  
  
************************************  
  
James pushed the bottle in his son's hands against his chest so that it shook in the bottle. "Now!"  
  
"No!" Jake put the bottle back into his father's hands.  
  
James growled and swung at Jake with the bottle.  
  
************************************  
  
Jake's eyes shot open. Upon seeing the large kat looming over him he gasped and sat up, smashing his head against the headboard. He hissed and rubbed the back of his head. "Chance, what are you doing?"   
  
"Trying to wake you up, that's what." Chance realized he was holding Jake still by the shoulders. He let go and sat back on his side of the bed. "I went to get a glass of water and came back to see you thrashing around in your sleep caught up in some nightmare."  
  
Jake felt a stinging in his neck and raised a paw to it. It stung under his touch, and when he drew his paw away he realized he was slightly bleeding. "Shit," he cursed quietly. He remembered in his dream, trying to pull his father's hand away from his throat. He must have clawed himself.   
  
"Jake, what did you do?" Chance turned on the ceiling light for a better look. "Holy kats..." Jake had badly scratched his neck in his sleep. Most of the cuts were covered up by fur matted down by sweat. Chance pulled a mirror off the large dresser on the front wall and held it in front of Jake, who groaned as he looked it over. He set it down on the table on his side of the bed and rubbed his eyes with his paws.   
  
Chance sat waiting to hear about this one. Instead, Jake let his head fall back against the wall with a lifeless thump. He blinked and stared up at the ceiling. His ocher eyes gleamed with anger and frustration.   
  
"I'm tired of this." He mumbled, but Chance was unable to understand what he had said.  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"I'm fucking tired of this." Jake gritted his teeth, trying to keep his voice low. He was shaking.  
  
"Tired of what exactly? The dreams?" Chance kept his voice low, hoping Jake would do the same.  
  
"The dreams, the not being able to sleep for days, then finally when I do it's restless. I'm tired of it. It's in the past. All of it. I shouldn't have to relive it every time I close my eyes." His voice had an edge to it and it's pitch rose an octave.   
  
"Jake, calm down buddy, it was just a dream." Chance tried to console his friend.  
  
"It's fucking bullshit is what it is!" Jake could feel himself losing control. He felt as if his grip on life itself had become loose. Beads of perspiration formed on his face and he felt like the walls were closing in on him. He was shaking and felt like he couldn't breathe. Jake got out of bed and headed to the door.  
  
"Where are you going?" Chance asked, his voice a nervous squeak.   
  
"I need to get out." He fumbled with the bedroom door and could be heard limping clumsily down the stairs.   
  
************************************  
  
The cold snow burned the bottoms of Jake's feet as he stumbled through the yard. He wasn't quite sure what his destination was, if he had one. The open wounds on his neck stung in the bitter air and the sound of Chance running after him was drowned out by the pounding in his head. He couldn't seem to get enough air into his lungs. He scratched violently at his arms, which had begun to itch with nervousness. It felt as if there were insects crawling all over him.   
  
************************************  
  
Chance gasped as his feet hit the cold snow, but he quickly ignored it and ran after Jake. Out of the corner of his left eye, he saw a light come on upstairs. He hadn't meant to wake anyone up but was thankful. Then, Chance saw Jake falter in his steps. He took a breath and dove, pinning him to the ground.  
  
Jake felt his clothes become damp and cold with the snow. His hands were numb and his arms tingled with pain. "Let me go!" He struggled, knowing Chance had him for strength.   
  
Chance got Jake under his arms and pulled him onto his back. "Calm down, Jake!" He held him tight. "Calm down! I'm trying to help you!" But Jake was persistent.  
  
"I don't need help!" Jake rasped out. "I can't breathe!" He struggled in Chance's grasp, his breathes coming out in painful gasps, he felt as if his heart was going to either give out or explode and his lungs felt as if they were on fire. Tears burned down his face.  
  
Behind him, Chance could hear his mother and Clifton running out to them. "Jake," he pleaded as the thin kat continued to struggle in his grasp.  
  
Jake couldn't see clearly and the sound of Chance trying to calm him became part of the roar in his ears. He suddenly felt like he was drowning. His wheezing and panting seemed worthless. He clawed at Chance's arms and anything else he could reach. "Chance!" He cried out. "I can't breathe!"   
  
"Jake you need to relax, okay?" He turned to his brother. "Clif, call an ambulance, hurry!" Chance felt tears slip down his cheeks. Rita knelt beside him. "Chance, baby, what happened?"   
  
"Oh, God, Mom, I don't know! He had another nightmare and he started freaking out!" Chance felt Jake's claws dig into his arms but he ignored them. "Jake, please, snap out of it!"   
  
Rita cupped Jake's face in her warm hands. "Jacob, sweetie, it's ok. You're safe." Jake was still thrashing and hyperventilating.   
  
Jake felt the snot drip from his nose as he howled. He was soaked through with tears, sweat, blood, and melted snow. For a moment he could see clearly, the worry etched on his friend's, brother's, face. "Chance... don't leave me... please..." He choked out the words just before he slipped into unconsciousness.  
  
"Jake!" Chance shook him, "Come on buddy!" He knelt his ear close to Jake's mouth and nose. "Shit!" He laid Jake flat on the ground and tilted his head back and listened again.   
  
"What?" Chance's mother shivered with cold and worry.   
  
"He's not breathing." Chance had become suddenly focused as he pinched Jake's nose shut and breathed into his mouth. His training had taken over. In the distance he heard an ambulance. He checked Jake's pulse, give a sigh of relief. "Come on buddy." Chance felt Jake's lungs fill with air as he breathed into him. He felt his pulse again.   
  
"Damn it, Jake!" His paws shook as he traced Jake's breast bone down to find the spot above the sternum. "Come on." He muttered as he focused on getting Jake's heart started again. Then, just as the bright red and white lights of the ambulance came into view, Jake's eyes shot open and he gave a hungry gasp for air.  
  
************************************  
  
Chance had rode in the ambulance with Jake, mainly because he couldn't get him to release the death grip on his arm. The entire ride to the hospital he kept a firm hold on the hand that held him, one eye on the steady rhythm of the heart monitor, and his other eye on Jake's face.   
  
Once at the hospital he followed the stretcher all the way down to the emergency room. The doctors and nurses surrounding him, telling him he needed to let Jake go. Chance snapped. "I CAN'T! He's holding me." Jake was conscious, but incoherent. "Can't you see he's frightened? He doesn't have a clue what's going on!" After a few seconds of trying to coax Jake to let Chance go, the doctors decided it would be okay to let Chance follow them in.   
  
The ER was controlled chaos, people everywhere swarmed around Jake, a couple of nurses cut away his wet clothes. It turned out that Chance was useful in holding his friend still, offering comforting words, doing his best to keep Jake calm. This proved effective until they needed to administer ether. Jake panicked as they began to lower it to his mouth and nose. Chance felt Jake's grip loosen on his arm as he slipped into a deep sleep.   
  
************************************  
  
Chance paced the waiting room nervously. His mother there as well as Clifton and his wife. It had been just over an hour. Then the doctor stepped out. "Chance?" He stopped pacing. "He wants to see you. But before you go in, an explanation is in order." He looked at a clipboard full of notes. "His blood pressure is far to high, especially for someone so young. Jake has suffered a severe anxiety attack and what seems like something close to a seizure. He will be alright, although I'm putting him on some strong blood pressure pills. And you might want to look into a psychiatrist to help him cope with the anxiety." The doctor stopped for a second. "You saved his life you know. As far from the hospital as you were, by the time the ambulance had arrived, he would have been dead."   
  
************************************  
  
Chance stepped into the sterile white room. The lights were dim, but not so dark that he couldn't get a good look at Jake. The fur on his arms were patchy and stained with blood from the scratching and his fists were clenched at his sides. The heart monitor beeped at a rate above normal and he seemed to be shivering.   
  
"Chance." Jake turned his head, a movement that seemed rigid and strained. He groaned. Chance took a seat in a hard plastic chair next to the bed.  
  
"Hey, buddy." He reached slowly for his hand, noticing Jake's skin under his fur seemed red and inflamed. "What's all this?" He asked the doctor.  
  
"A rash, caused by a nervous reaction." He took a seat on the other side of the bed. "Hello Jake." His tone was gentle. "You should be able to go home in the morning, of course that's all pending on how well you make it through the night."   
  
Jake reached a shaky claw to scratch at his arm but it was stopped by Chance. "Easy, pal. You scratch that any more and it will just get worse." The doctor stood.  
  
"I will be by later to check." He left the two alone.  
  
Chance held Jake's shivering paw. "Are you cold?" The poor kat was shivering all over. Jake shook his head. "Scared?" Chance's tone was gentle. Jake lowered his eyes and gave a jerky nod.  
  
"It's ok. You had us all worried there." Chance reached out a paw and cupped Jake's chin, turning his head to face his.  
  
"Chance... I... What happened? What happened to me?" Tears filled Jake's eyes as he spoke.   
  
"Nervous breakdown, I think. Doc called it an anxiety attack. I thought you were having a heart attack for a moment. You were screaming and you stopped breathing and then your heart stopped." The words came out fast and jumbled. "You had me so scared, Jake." His own blue eyes became watery.   
  
"Chance," Jake's voice shook, "you... you saved me... I thought... when they brought me here... when I was 17... it was all the same, Chance... I was so scared." Tears spilled from his eyes as he spoke. Chance wasn't clear what Jake was trying to say.   
  
"It's ok, Jake. You're going to be alright." He tried to coax but Jake was persistent.  
  
"No, listen... please." His teeth chattered and the beep on the heart monitor sped up.   
  
"Jake, it's ok. Calm down, please. I'm listening." He squeezed Jake's paw, watching him take a deep breath.  
  
"When I was 17, after my dad died. It was like this." He squirmed and twitched, trying desperately not to scratch at the burning rash that seemed to be spreading. "I remember what happened then. I remember now."  
  
Chance held his partner's hand tightly, "What happened Jake?"   
  
Jake's jaw quivered, "I.. I tried to kill myself." He sounded shocked, as if not really believing he had done it. "I was so drunk, Chance. I was so screwed up. I didn't even look at what I was taking. I just dumped all these pills into my hand. And I laid there... for a long time in the hallway. Leslie, she came home from school and she found me. I couldn't move, my whole body, it was numb. She was saying something, I couldn't hear her. She kicked my head and knocked me out."   
  
"Jake it's going to be ok. You just made a mistake, that's all." His tail twitched nervously behind him. "Why didn't you tell me?" It was a question that he had been asking a lot lately. More tears slipped from Jake's tired eyes.  
  
"Because I can't remember them." Jake made deep wheezing sounds as he breathed. "Like memories, that you forget, blocked out. Then things happen and you remember them." He opened and closed his mouth, struggling for a word that seemed on the tip of his tongue.  
  
"Repressed?" Chance offered.  
  
"That's it." Jake gave a withered smile.   
  
"Jake, the doctor mentioned something about seeing a psychiatrist. That it might help you." Chance said the words carefully. "If you'd be willing to go, I know someone that you don't have to hide our 'other job' from."  
  
Jake's mouth hung open a little, then he closed it slowly, setting his lips in a line. "Who?"   
  
"My sister, Rachel. She'll be in town Sunday, at church." He slouched in the uncomfortable chair.  
  
"I don't know Chance." He felt tired, and was still shaking. Chance stood up.   
  
"You get some rest. I'll be back in the morning." He gave his paw a gentle pat. 


	7. chapter 7

Note that I have done a little bit of research in writing this section. The medications listed are actual prescription drugs. Please consult your doctor if you think you may have a problem with depression, anxiety or blood pressure. Do not abuse prescription drugs and don't take prescription drugs not prescribed for you! Thanks and happy reading!  
  
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Chance laid out Jake's clothes so that he could sleep in a little bit before church in the morning. His eyes were half closed as he leaned against the dresser, watching his friend sleep whiskers twitching as he dreamed. About what, Chance could only wonder, because Jake hadn't said a word since he left the hospital. There was a soft knock at the door.  
  
"Mind if I come in?" It was Rachel.  
  
"When did you get here?" Chance asked as she stood next to him.  
  
"Just a few minutes ago. This Jake?" Her green eyes swept over the thin figure in the bed. Chance nodded. "He's a mess." She stated.  
  
Chance sighed, "You think you can help him?" He had talked to her on the phone yesterday morning.  
  
"I can try. I have to tell you, Chance. From the information you've given me, it sounds like Jake's dealing with a chemical imbalance as well as some pretty tough repressed memories. It's odd for there to be two suicides and one attempt in the same family without it being genetic. I may have to prescribe something."  
  
"And the nightmares? Can anything be done about them?" Chance chewed on his bottom lip.  
  
She twitched her nose. "How do you think he would handle sleep therapy?" He shook his head, and she continued, "I don't want to add to the list of pills he's taking."  
  
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Jake ran a comb through his hair, wincing as it caught a tangle. It felt odd to be going to church and it not being a funeral. He wasn't exactly raised by a God-fearing family. Frustrated, he set the comb back down on the sink and ran his fingers through the tangled mess. He straightened the collar on his black turtleneck sweater and left.  
  
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Jake leaned heavily on his cane as he filed out of the church. He felt sluggish and nearly fell asleep during the long winded service. Seeing Chance talking to a slim red headed she-kat, he limped slowly over to his friend.  
  
"Hey Jake." Chance smiled brightly. "This is Rachel, my older sister." Chance was the middle child. "Rachel, this is Jake." She held out a thin blonde furred paw, green eyes sparkling. Jake took hers in his, giving it a brief shake. Chance cleared his throat.   
  
"I'll let you talk." he gave Jake a gentle pat on the shoulder and waved to his mother as he walked away.   
  
Jake scratched at his wrist and gave a nervous laugh. "So..." He started, then cleared his throat. "Um..."  
  
Rachel smiled sweetly. "Let's take a ride." She pointed a thumb at her small car. Jake looked hesitant. "It's alright." She said. "They already know. I figure you'd be more comfortable talking somewhere less... religious."  
  
"It was a nice service. They're always so meaningful this time of year. What did you think?" She asked starting the car. Jake fastened his seat belt and stared at the glove box for a moment before answering.  
  
"Yeah, it was alright. I have to admit, I'm not to informed on the religion thing though." He laughed nervously.  
  
"Have you ever thought about reading up on it?" She had her hand on the shifter console between them.  
  
"I don't know. I don't think I've ever thought I needed to get my life mixed up in religion." He licked his cracked lips, feeling a cold sore forming inside his mouth.   
  
"What about hope? What do you put your faith in; what do you believe in?"  
  
"I guess, if I had to pick a belief to sum it up, I'd say Agnostic. And even then I don't think I put too much time into hoping things will happen. It just seems so much easier to just do it yourself."  
  
"But you can't say you've never prayed for things?" She cast a glance at Jake.  
  
"I think most of us have one time or another. Now, I won't say I dropped to my knees and folded my hands like some stereotype. The time's I've prayed, it was silent, in my head. I figure if there is this 'almighty I AM' then I shouldn't have to say it aloud."  
  
"Are you ashamed?" Her voice didn't seem to fluctuate, in fact it sounded very professional.  
  
"Of what?" Jake asked.  
  
"Well, that someone will think you're weak?" Jake shrugged and she moved on to the next question. "How about as a kitten? Was there a lot of pressure on you not to show emotions?"   
  
"I think society itself puts a lot of pressure on guys to be strong." He generalized.  
  
"That's not what I asked, though. What about you personally? Did you're parents put a lot of emphasis on acting like a man?" She rephrased her question so that he couldn't dance around it.  
  
"Well, I suppose. I mean, it was my older sister and me. She, being first born automatically got a lot of attention. I guess I would have to say yes. I remember several times being told to 'grow up' or 'be a man about it'." He fidgeted with the sleeves of his shirt.  
  
"In response to that, you rebelled. What were your friends like?" She really wanted to go back to Jake's earliest memories but for now she wanted to start with something simple. Jake gave a short laugh.  
  
"I only had a few friends. There were a couple of guys, Ruben and Eric. They were partners in crime and dragged me into everything. Then there was Samantha, called her Sami." His eyes misted over a little.  
  
"Sami was very close to you?" She noticed the change in tone when he mentioned her name.  
  
"Well, we were friends for a long time, did everything together. She brought her guitar to school with her. We'd sit outside; it didn't matter how cold or hot it was, and she'd play and sing some rock song."  
  
"Were you ever romantically involved?" She pried deeper. Jake flushed and looked out the window at the snow covered trees.  
  
"You could say that. She," he cleared his throat, "she was the first girl I'd ever 'been' with."  
  
Rachel picked up on the emphasis on the word 'been' and knew immediately what he meant.  
  
"How did that affect your friendship?"   
  
"Well, at first it was just like an added bonus. I mean I was 15, raging hormones. It was like having your cake and eating it too. But, things changed a lot for me then and she got pushed out of my life."  
  
"Was that also when you first encountered drugs?" Jake had to laugh at the way she phrased it.  
  
"Yeah. It was really Ruben's doing. His father was Colombian. It was like a family business. My dad and I had gotten into some argument and I had asked him if I could hang at his place for a couple hours after school. He offered it to me, said it would help me relax. And I knew it was wrong. I knew what it did to kats. But I wanted to be laid back like he was. So I caved."  
  
"And the drinking? When did that start?" She pulled into a freshly re-paved driveway to a brick building.   
  
"I think I've been drinking since I was 14, started with spiked drinks at parties I snuck off to. Eric's dad would buy it and sell it to us. He knew it was illegal, but his theory on it was that kids were going to do it whether their parents knew it or not, so why not let them buy it from someone they can trust." Jake unbuckled his belt.  
  
"My office. It's pretty comfortable, and warm. I practically live here." She laughed as they got out of the car.  
  
Jake followed her inside. It was nice. There were a few overstuffed chairs and a plush couch in the waiting room. He followed her through a door where there was a large polished cherry wood desk with a black computer and a black leather chair. Then there was another couch and two high back leather chairs.   
  
"Have a seat. I don't really care where, just as long as you're comfortable."  
  
Jake chose one of the chairs, afraid that if he sat on the couch he'd fall asleep. She pulled a couple bottles of water out of a fridge and handed on to Jake. She sat in the other chair.   
  
"What was your mother's side of the family like?"  
  
"Well, my mom was raised in a Catholic family, Italian. It was small though. She was the only child and her father had a heart attack just after she was born. Her mother raised her to be submissive, that a woman's place was behind her husband with her mouth shut. She took a lot of crap from my father when she should have stood up for herself."   
  
"Was your father a violent man?" She asked, cocking her head to the side with her hands folded in her lap.  
  
"Well, yeah I guess he was. Not to everyone though. He loved my sister. She was a daddy's girl. And I've only seen him slap my mom once."  
  
"What about you? Did he ever hit you?" Jake made a sound that was a cross between a laugh and a grunt.  
  
"Of course he did. Not without warrant though. I pushed his buttons on more than one occasion."  
  
"Had he ever, in your opinion, crossed the line between discipline and what people would call abuse?" She blinked and pushed a strand of hair behind her right ear. Jake opened his mouth, then closed it, and opened it again.  
  
"I... well I guess there were a few times where he just got 'carried away'." He sucked nervously on the inside of his cheeks.  
  
"Can you give me an example?" Jake frowned at her question. "It's alright. Everything said between us is kept between us and strictly professional. I can't force you to answer any questions you don't wish to answer, but it is in your best interest to answer as honestly as possible."   
  
Jake took a sharp breath through his nose. "When I was 12 he broke my nose and my collar bone."  
  
"What was his justification behind it?" She shook the look of shock off her face.  
  
"I was picked on a lot in school for being smart and coming from a rich family. I decided that instead of being shoved into a locker I was going to stand up for myself." A look of pride overtook his features as he told the story. "It was some fat kid, I can't even remember his name now, but he picked me up by the shirt collar and started to shove me in the locker. I kicked out and hit his jaw with my foot. Didn't break it, but he nearly bit his tongue off. Of course, he said I started it and my dad got a nice phone call." He shifted again. "When I got home, there was company over. He told me to go to my room, he'd deal with me later. About two hours later he came up stairs. My dad was a large man. Not like Chance. Just tall with a big gut from drinking and being lazy, but to a tiny 12 year old, he was frightening. So I bolted. He grabbed me by the back of my neck and tossed me down the stairs. Of course, for the record, I fell. I was pretty clumsy then."   
  
She made a mental note of his use of sarcasm to hide the internal struggle with his emotions. "From what you can recall, how many incidents similar to this occurred?" Jake thought for a moment.   
  
"Maybe 3, that I can remember." Jake slouched and shoved his hands in his pockets.  
  
"You've tried to forget a lot of it?" She stood up, went to her desk and picked up a manila folder.  
  
"Yeah, there's no need and carrying around that much baggage. After a while of people asking what your childhood was like and you answering 'I don't know', you forget yourself. What's that?" He asked, nodding his head at the folder.  
  
"Your medical records. Chance contacted me while you were in the hospital. He signed permission for me to have a copy."  
  
"But I thought this was voluntary." Jake knew that no one had authorization to view his records for anything unless he gave them permission or if he was determined to be in the wrong state of mind to make good judgment.  
  
"Because your history of drug and alcohol abuse as well as a record of at least one suicide attempt, the hospital requires you to attend a psychiatrist on a weekly basis. Fortunately, they allowed Chance to request my help."  
  
Jake sighed and she continued. "Nothing said here will be shared with anyone. Chance understands that while he is family, you are a patient, and that means whatever you say to me or I say to you stays between us and on record."  
  
"What record? I haven't seen you write a single thing down."   
  
Rachel laughed. "I have a great memory, and I record everything." She pointed to a video camera on the wall facing the sitting area and a tape recorder on her desk. "Now, back to business. I have some questions about some illnesses, injuries and hospitalizations on your record." She smiled. "Get comfortable, we are going to be here for a while." She opened it up on the table and sat down on the couch for more room. "Ok, age 6 admitted to the hospital for severe pneumonia, temperature reached 106, went into cardiac arrest and was resuscitated. What do you remember from then?"   
  
Jake scratched his nose. "I remember that pretty well. I was actually really sick for a couple of days, but my parents worked a lot and they just assumed it was the flu. I believe it was the babysitter that took me to the hospital. I have to admit, that was a rather traumatic experience. Because of the fever, I wasn't very clear as to what was happening around me. At one point, they had actually laid me in a tub of ice water to try and lower my temperature. After that, I don't remember much, just waking up a few days later. But that's expected."  
  
Rachel nodded and continued. "Yes it is." She ran her finger down the lists of childhood ear infections, colds, flues, and vaccinations, then she raised her eye brow. "Age 9 severe concussion and broken wrist." Jake laughed out loud. "I fell out of a tree." She raised both her brows.  
  
"No, really, I did. Leslie, my sister, got her kite stuck in it. So I climbed up and cut it loose. The branch I stood on snapped and I fell." He parted his hair showing a scar. "Hit my head on a rock. Took 5 stitches." She smiled, laughing lightly. "I'm noticing a lot of ear infections here." Jake blushed.  
  
"I have really sensitive ears. My hearing is great, windy days and too much time in the water would cause several visits to the emergency room. I still have trouble with that, though mostly now its problem with inner ear fluid. You should see a note on there later on from last year. I had a bad case of vertigo, no thanks to Chance's hot shot flying of course. I woke up the next day and I couldn't even lift my head." She nodded and then continued down the list. "What about this one, age 9 again. Sever inflammation of the left ear lobe, bleeding and near bursting of the ear drum; cause: severe blow to the head."   
  
Jake's brow wrinkled in thought, a deep frown on his face. "Does it give a better description?" Rachel flipped through the file. "There's some Polaroid's here." She pulled them out and gasped.   
  
"Let me see." Jake took the pictures. They were all of his left ear. It was badly swollen and had a deep cut. There was a line of dried blood coming out of it. He shook his head and then gasped dropping them on the floor. He stood up, seeing a mirror on the wall. Licking his lips, he stumbled over to it and looked at the reflection of his left ear. He traced a long white scar with his claw.   
  
"I remember." He frowned and sat back in his seat. "Sort of. Something was said and I wasn't listening. Dad was drunk and boxed my ear for not paying attention. I almost didn't make it into the academy because of some problems hearing out of it." He sighed. "It drive's Chance nuts because sometimes he will say something to me towards my left ear and I have to ask him to repeat it. When I designed our helmets, I installed the headset on the right side of mine so that I could be sure I heard everything right." His jaw quivered a little as he absently rubbed his ear.  
  
"Repressed memory." Rachel stated. "I plan on digging up a few those in our sessions together. For now, lets just make a mental note of this and move on." She smiled and tucked the pictures back into the folder. There was a long list of various checkups and physicals. "You've had a lot of variations in your weight between age 12 and now, but I don't see anything about strange eating habits and such. You tend to lose weight while handling stress?"  
  
Jake nodded and took a sip of the water she had given him earlier. "Yeah. I don't think I've ever weighed more than between 130 and 135."  
  
"Do you know how much you weigh right now?" She asked, seeing it in front of her.  
  
Jake shrugged, "115, maybe 120." Rachel blinked.  
  
"Way off. They weighed you in the hospital before releasing you day before yesterday. 98 pounds. A little over a month ago when you had bronchitis, you weighed 132. Quite a drop there."   
  
Jake shrugged it off. "I'm sure I'll gain it back." She quirked an ear back and continued down the list.  
  
"Ok, well it seems like most of your serious problems started about the age of 15. Broken jaw from a glass bottle?"  
  
"Dad, caught me smoking weed and drinking."  
  
"Age 16, admitted to the hospital with alcohol poisoning?" Jake flushed.  
  
"A party, actually a drinking game."  
  
"Age 16, 3 broken ribs and another concussion, noted lacerations to the wrists." She looked up at Jake whose eyes looked vacant. "We'll come back to that one." She put a star beside it. "Okay, age 17, I'm assuming the afternoon of your father's suicide. Open wound on the shoulder, glass embedded, required 15 stitches. Note, patient needed sedation do to shock. Explain the events of that night."   
  
Jake went on to detail the story as he had told Chance.  
  
"Understandable." She noted. "Two days later, patient admitted with high blood-alcohol level, accelerated heart rate, high narcotics level, ingestion of several prescription and non-prescription drugs, and head trauma. Head trauma?" She inquired.  
  
"My sister kicked me when she found me." He stared at his paws.  
  
"Ok after this, the hospitalizations drop. There's some notes from the rehab. I see you've had anxiety problems in the past. I see another visit to the ER for more broken ribs 2 years ago."  
  
"Yeah, the line on my grappling hook snapped and I fell 3 stories. A flag pole broke my fall."  
  
"Ouch."  
  
"You're telling me."  
  
"What was your cover, seeing as you can't just stroll into the hospital as a SWAT Kat?" Jake laughed.  
  
"I fell three stories onto a flag pole, was doing vent work in that particular building for a friend." He winked. "Chance invented that story. That one sounds pretty lame, but he's come up with some wild ones."   
  
She laughed as she looked at the list of 'mechanic' related injuries. "Sprained back due to lifting a car off co-workers foot?" Jake flinched.  
  
"That one's true. Chance was hooking a woman's car up to the tow truck and the chain snapped. The car smashed right on his foot. It's amazing what adrenaline can make the body do. I couldn't lift that much again if I had to."  
  
"Well, your record seems a little nicer after your father's death. I have to tell you that. But I don't like the damage its done, including the reoccurring nightmares and this weeks anxiety attack. You've been prescribed Coreg for blood pressure?"  
  
"Correct."  
  
"I don't care much for that particular medication. It's too difficult. If you get fed up with it, slowly reduce the amount you take. If you just stop taking it, you could end up having a heart attack. They haven't given you anything for anxiety, which is good. They normally leave that up to someone in my field of practice. Have you ever taken anti-depressants?"  
  
"I might have in rehab, but I doubt it."  
  
"Well, I'm prescribing you Diazepam, which is a generic Valium. Take it at night, 30 minutes before the time you normally go to bed. If you have to be up early, take it early or you'll over sleep." She pulled a white pad out of a drawer in the table and filled out the prescription. Then she pulled another sheet of paper out of his folder. "Allergies: penicillin and Novocain. That's got to make trips to the dentist painful. Well you should be fine then, in a nice comatose state. The Diazepam is temporary. I just want to see if it helps." She handed Jake the paper, then she looked out the window to see her brother's Sable pull into the small parking lot. "Right on time." She smiled. "Your ride is here. I will see you tomorrow." 


	8. chapter 8

Jake laid across the bed with a pillow over his face. He had been on the two medications for 3 days now. It was Christmas Eve and his third day of therapy. Rachel was rigorous and had dug up several repressed memories. He felt ill, a side effect of both pills, as well as the dredging up of the past.   
  
Rachel glowered from her seat on the dresser. Jake was being less than cooperative. In fact, he was being down right irritable. "So you have no hobbies what-so-ever?" She raised an eyebrow.   
  
"I have my work. I sketch schematics for new weapons, but that's not really a hobby. It's a need."  
  
"Okay, then what are some things you like to do?" Jake sighed loudly.  
  
"I like to read." It was corny, but it was true. He felt her pull the pillow off his face.   
  
"You don't ever sketch just for yourself?" Jake gave a weak laugh.  
  
"What's the point? I know what I'm capable of." His eyes were closed and his face was slightly flushed.   
  
"Not everything you do has to be done to prove you can do something. Most people use their talents to help them unwind." Jake was silent.  
  
"Okay, if you don't believe me, then you get homework."  
  
"What?" His voice cracked with agitation.  
  
"You've got a notebook with you?"  
  
"Yeah." He carried one everywhere, just in case.  
  
"Then draw me something, anything. It can be some missile, it can be a picture of a house. You have until Thursday. That's the day after tomorrow."  
  
Jake muttered an annoyed "fine."   
  
"Okay then, I'll leave you alone for the rest of the day and tomorrow." With that she turned on her heel and left. It was around two in the afternoon and he'd already taken his morning dosage of Coreg, which had defiantly kicked in.   
  
Chance pushed open the door, carrying a plate with a sandwich and some chips on it. "Lunch." He sat down on the bed and set the plate beside Jake.  
  
"No thanks." Jake's ears fell flat against his head.  
  
"Aw, but it's bologna with mustard. You love bologna with mustard." Chance frowned. "Come on, you need to eat something."  
  
"Chance! Ugh, fine." He hissed and pushed himself up slowly, wincing at a kink in his neck. Jake started to pick at the sandwich and then looked up.  
  
"What? Making sure I eat it all?" His brownish orange eyes were half open.  
  
"Yep. Because I know if I leave you'll toss it out the window." He smirked. Jake took a bit of the sandwich, chewed it for a few seconds and swallowed. It felt like led in his stomach. Feeling Chance's eyes on him, he took another bite. After eating half his sandwich he pushed the plate away.  
  
"Satisfied?"  
  
"Not really." Chance frowned at the half a sandwich and potato chips still left on the plate.  
  
"If you promise not to look, I'll dump it out the window and say I ate it."  
  
"Finish the other half of the sandwich and I'll leave you alone about it." He folded his arms over his chest.  
  
Jake swallowed the last bit of bologna as a car pulled in outside. He stretched out his stiff neck to see from the bed.   
  
"Who is that?" He asked, seeing two she-kats get out of the car, one a tall blonde, and the other a petite blonde-furred she-kat with an unnatural shade of... blue for hair.  
  
Chance looked out the window.  
  
"The rest of the Furlong clan. The blonde is Roselyn, and the nut-ball you see is Elaine."  
  
Jake sighed. There were so many people here and he felt bad knowing that he hadn't even bought Chance a present yet.   
  
"Hey, you want to come with me to do some last minute Christmas shopping? There's a small shopping center place about 40 minutes from here." Jake twitched his nose and reached into his back pocket for his worn black leather billfold. He pulled out a few bills, dropping a piece of paper in the process.   
  
"What's this?" Chance picked it up for him. Jake shrugged as he counted through the ones and fives in his hand.  
  
"Jake, this is a check." Chance said, his eyes bulging. "For $8,000."  
  
"Oh... that." He said uninterested. "My inheritance. You want it?"  
  
Chance blinked. "Jake you can't just give away $8,000!" Jake frowned.  
  
"I can if I don't want it. Go ahead, it's all yours. Call it your Christmas present since I'm a slacker and forgot about the holiday." Jake shrugged it off, smiling a little at his friends bewildered look.  
  
"I'm not spending all this on myself. Get some shoes on. We're going to find a bank that can cash this."  
  
*********************************  
  
Chance slipped into an art store while Jake sat on a bench taking a break. Back in the academy, Jake had this nice sketch book that he was always drawing something in. In fact, Chance had a couple of pencil drawings in the bottom of his dresser drawer that he had kept after they had been kicked off the force. He stopped in front of a long shelf with different sizes and kinds of sketchbooks and picked up a black leather bound one that looked exactly like the one Jake used to have.  
  
*********************************  
  
A large crystal display caught Jake's eyes from the bench he was sitting on. Looking around for Chance, he sighed and pushed himself up, wincing as some woman in a hurry brushed against his knee with some packages.   
  
"Can I help you?" A thin Siamese she-kat asked as Jake looked over the objects.   
  
"How much is this?" He pointed to a rose quartz model of the Red Lynx. Jake was happy to find it on sale, and put the box in a bag with another gift. Turning around he saw Chance looking around for him. He limped away from the display and over to the large tom cat.   
  
"Hey, where'd you run off to?" Chance asked, walking over to a drink machine.   
  
"I was going to ask you the same. Did you find anything interesting?" He leaned tiredly on the metal cane, giving an annoyed look to some loud kitten. Chance shrugged. "No not really. But I think we're about done."  
  
*********************************  
  
Jake and Chance returned home to find the house empty. "I'll put these upstairs." Chance took the bags out of Jake's hands. "See if they left a note on the fridge."  
  
"Right," Jake limped into the kitchen. Just as Chance had predicted, there was a note hanging clumsily on the door of the refrigerator. Water had been spilt on it and the words were smudged. Chance said something to the left of him.  
  
"Huh?" Jake looked up. Chance rolled his eyes. "Clean out your ears. What's it say?" Jake squinted his eyes and turned the paper.   
  
"I'm not sure. It's all grubby." He handed Chance the paper, but he couldn't decipher it either.  
  
"Let me call Clif's cell phone. I'm sure he's with them." He left the room.  
  
Jake pulled a glass from one of the cupboards and filled it with some of the iced tea in the fridge. He really preferred hot tea, but didn't feel like making any. Chance came back in the kitchen and sat down at the small breakfast table by the window.   
  
"Carla went into labor after we left. Mom said to stay here though. Said it's snowing badly at the hospital and doesn't want us to get caught in it."   
  
Jake sat down beside Chance and looked out the large bay windows. "What's it like?"  
  
"What, having a baby?" Chance laughed.  
  
"No. Having such a big family. Come on, I spilled my guts for you." Jake sipped his tea, the cold making his front teeth hurt a little.  
  
Chance's smile was reminiscent, "It's really nice. We've always been there for each other, lots of traditions and good memories. It's like for every bad time there's at least one good time to counter it." Chance got up and poured himself some tea as well. "Why do you ask?"  
  
Jake sighed. "I've just always wondered what it was like to have a family like this."  
  
"You do have a family like this, Jake. My mom talks about you like you're her son. You might as well be." He laughed. "You should know by now that you're always welcome here." His eyes lit up. "Hey did I ever show you my dad's pictures?"  
  
Jake shook his head. "No. I mean, I've seen the ones you have back at the garage." A bright smile lit his friend's face.   
  
"Come on."  
  
Chance led Jake up into the cold attic and turned on the light. Then he pulled out a dusty old trunk. "Mom had to put his stuff up here a few months after he died. She felt bad about it, but it was really becoming a burden to dust it all." The trunk creaked loudly as Chance slowly opened it. Inside where his old uniforms and awards. Underneath it was an faded blue scrap book. Chance pulled it out carefully, then closed the trunk and opened the book on top of it.  
  
Jake looked at the first picture. It was when his father had first joined. "You look just like him." Chance swelled with pride.   
  
"Look at this. It's Commander Feral. But he was just a Corporal then." Jake's eyes widened. It was Feral standing next to Chance's father with this goofy grin on his face. He looked so young and so laid back. For an hour they flipped through the old book. After a while though, the dust and cold had got to them both. Jake helped Chance put the album back where it was and then together they left. Not, however, without noticing the snow falling outside.  
  
*********************************  
  
Chance dug around for the tea kettle in a cabinet. After a lot of noise, he pulled it out and rinsed it off. He poked his head in the living room.  
  
"You like hot tea?" Chance asked Jake, who was sitting on the couch with the TV on, but paying more attention to the lights on the tree.  
  
"What?" He looked up and saw Chance wave a tea kettle at him. "Yeah. Didn't know you had a taste for it." He chuckled and Chance crossed his arms.  
  
"What you think tea is only for sissies?" He teased Jake, who made an obscene gesture and a face. Chance stuck out his tongue in retaliation and retreated into the kitchen.   
  
The lights on the Christmas tree were on a fade setting, and it was down right hypnotic. Jake shook his head out of the trance and pulled his notebook out from under the coffee table. He'd started to draw something for Rachel, but scrapped it. He chewed absently on the eraser of his pencil, once again falling victim to the beauty of the tree. In all his life, he'd never seen a Christmas tree as beautiful as this one.   
  
Chance sat down on the couch and set two steaming cups on the table. "Pretty, isn't it?"   
  
Jake flushed. "Yeah it is."   
  
"What's the paper for?" He leaned over trying to see what was on it and frowned when he realized it was blank.  
  
"Rachel wants me to draw something. I'm not exactly sure what she aims to prove." He tapped the blank lined page with the tip of his pencil.  
  
"I'm sure there's method to her madness." Chance took the remote and flipped the channel to Scaredy Kat. Jake watched his friend become engrossed in the cartoon. Smiling, he moved his pencil on the paper, chewing lightly on his tongue as he drew.  
  
*********************************  
  
Jake woke up at the sound of a door opening. He sat up and hung the blanket over the back of the couch where it had been when he fell asleep. Chance stood up as his mother entered the living room, tears streaked down her face.   
  
"Mom, what happened?" He asked taking her hand and leading her to sit between him and Jake. "Is Carla alright?" A sob escaped her lips.  
  
"She's going to be ok with time." Her voice was weak.   
  
"What about the baby?" Jake asked timidly, helping her out of her snow covered coat. She gave a helpless wail.  
  
"He... didn't make it." Jake missed the coat hook and scrambled to pick it up. He tossed a look to Chance's two younger sisters, then back at Rita. It would have been her first grandbaby. He went into the kitchen and poured a cup full of hot water and dropped a tea bag into it. After a few seconds of stirring he added two spoonfuls of sugar and carried it out to the living room where Chance was comforting his mother.   
  
"Thanks, sweetie." She sniffled and took the warm drink from Jake, who gave her a sympathetic smile. "Rachel is staying at the hospital with Clifton and Clara. They should be home in a few hours." She wiped her eyes with a handkerchief she kept in her purse, then she stood up. "Come on, help me get this house in order. Tomorrow is Christmas. There's a lot that needs to be done."   
  
*********************************  
  
Dinner was quiet. Carla was released from the hospital, but wasn't hungry, and Clifton had stayed in their room with her. Chance had offered some comforting words to his brother but knew it was better to leave well enough alone. Jake stirred a piece of carrot around in his bowl absently, staring at the two pills by his glass of milk. Chance nudged his arm, and he looked up.   
  
"Elbow off the table." He whispered. Jake blushed, realizing he had been resting his head in his hand while he ate.   
  
"Sorry," he muttered and laid his hand in his lap. He thought he was going to fall asleep right there for a minute or two. Elaine and Roselyn carried on about college to their mother, while Rachel broke some crackers into her bowl. Chance watched the conversation idly. Jake finished his stew and washed down the two pills quickly. Shaking himself awake, he picked up his bowl and glass and carried them to the sink.   
  
"I'll get those." Chance said setting his own bowl in the sink. "Go to bed, you look like you're about to fall over." Jake yawned in response. On his way out of the dining room, he stopped and gave Rita a big hug without saying a word and trudged upstairs to bed. 


	9. chapter 9

Thank you so very much for all your reviews, especially Ebonezer. I have to say I'm somewhat of a grinch when it comes to Christmas so this chapter was hard. Please be kind and give me lots more luscious reviews.  
  
~Nyte Kat~  
  
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Jake sat up from another dream. He couldn't really remember what it was about, but he was shaking and covered in a cold sweat. Beside him, Chance snored loudly. Jake groaned and got out of bed. It was 4 in the morning. "Maybe some milk will help me sleep." He scratched the back of his neck and limped down the stairs.   
  
Jake stopped on the last step, hearing a whimpering in the kitchen. He stood there, listening for a moment before sighing and figuring it probably didn't matter what he heard. Rita was with her anyway.   
  
"Don't mind me," He said quietly. "Just getting some milk." Clara gave a mournful wail as Jake pulled the glass out of the cabinet. Spooked, he dropped it, cursing as it broke on his foot. "Stupid piece of shi-cheap glasses." Jake changed his words around upon receiving a glare. "I got it." He brushed Rita off as he cleaned up the mess and picked the glass out of his foot.   
  
"Jake, what are you doing up?" She crossed her arms giving him a glare, one Chance had obviously inherited.   
  
"I... uh... is she going to be okay?" He asked nodding his head at Clara as he poured a glass of milk.   
  
"She'll be fine. Now get back to bed before you break another glass... or else I'll make you start cooking breakfast." She said sternly.  
  
"Yes mother." Jake said before swallowing the last of his milk and putting the glass in the dishwasher. "Night, Clara." He smiled tiredly at her and returned to bed.  
  
****************************  
  
Chance groaned and rolled over. "Jake, please get comfortable and stay that way." No answer. "Great." He sat up and watched Jake toss and turn with an uneasy look on his face. "Jake." He shook him. Shaking Jake had become an early morning ritual. "Come on, man. Wake up!" He gave Jake a gruff shove, sighing in relief when it did the trick.   
  
Jake's eyes burst open and he leapt from the bed, tripped over the rug and fell against the wall. "Holy..."  
  
"Whoa, Jake. Sorry. You were dreaming and I woke you up. That looked like it might have hurt." Chance walked around the bed to his friend sitting on the floor.  
  
"Of course it hurt." Jake snapped. "I just did a flying leap into a wall." He rubbed his elbow.   
  
Chance shook his head. "What was this one about?" He gazed out the window. The sun had begun to rise and the horizon was a light pink.   
  
Jake shook his head. "I don't know." He sat back on the bed, following Chance's stare out the window. It was beautiful, the way the snow seemed to glow at dawn. An early rooster crowed. Jake hated that sound. It made him anxious for home.  
  
"What do you mean?" Chance turned away from the window.  
  
"I mean I don't remember what my dream was about." Jake shook his head. "When I wake up, it's all clear. But once I'm awake, I draw a blank." He put his head in his hands and sighed.   
  
"I'm sure it's just the meds you're on." Chance closed the blinds and slid back in bed.   
  
"You're going back to sleep?" Jake asked, chin resting in his palms.  
  
"Yeah. I still have at least two hours before Mom gets all excited about opening presents. You should probably do the same." Chance replied, his face half buried in the pillow.  
  
"Right. I think I'm going to take a shower." Jake grabbed some clothes from on top of the large dresser and left.  
  
****************************  
  
Jake found the living room empty. Rita and Carla had finally turned in. He suddenly felt very tired and decided to lay on the couch. After flipping through a few channels with the television too low to really hear any dialogue, he settled for some music video channel. Jake yawned and closed his eyes, drifting into a peaceful sleep.  
  
****************************  
  
The smell of bacon sizzling hung in the air like smoke and danced it's way into the sleeping kat's brain. Jake smiled and stretched, pulling the blanket up to his ears. He was about to drift back into sleep when the blanket was pulled off him. "Breakfast." Elaine's blue/green eyes sparkled with annoyance. "And hurry up; I'm starving." Jake rolled his eyes, smiling as he heard Rita scold her youngest for being rude.  
  
Breakfast was fairly quiet. Jake picked at his food, not really hungry. Roselyn and Elaine silently tormented each other, receiving the occasional glare from Rita. Chance helped himself to another biscuit, and Clifton held Carla's paw under the table in an almost adolescent way. Carla sat still, no food in front of her, just a steaming cup of coffee. And Rachel kept an eye on her patient's lethargic actions while stuffing her face in a manner that could only make Chance proud... or vomit considering it was a woman eating like that. Heaving an inaudible sigh, Jake shoveled down the rest of his breakfast.  
  
****************************  
  
Jake rested his chin on his knee watching as Clifton handed out gifts, something his family had never done. It was actually a really humble process, in his opinion. The oldest son hands out gifts to all the family. The family waits until everyone has their gifts and then, all together, they rip off the paper and 'ooh' and 'ahh' whether they like the gift or not. It was sweet, in Jake's opinion. He'd celebrated the holiday with his family as a young kitten, but after some time, it became just another day. Jake closed his eyes, covering his mouth to hide a yawn he couldn't suppress.  
  
"Jake this one's yours." Chance passed a present from Clifton up to Jake who was sitting on the couch behind him. His ears flattened when Jake didn't take it, so he craned his neck to see what was wrong. An amused snort escaped his nostrils.   
  
"What?" Clifton looked up, not wanting to miss out on a joke. He looked up at Jake and laughed softly. Jake had fallen asleep with his right leg drawn up to his chest and his chin on his knee, resembling some sort of kat-like origami.  
  
"You can sleep later," Chance pulled Jake's leg down. "Merry Christmas, sleeping beauty." Jake rubbed his eyes tiredly and took the gift from Chance.   
  
When it was all said and done, the living room was covered in a sea of shiny paper and bows. Jake helped clean up the mess and then took his gifts upstairs to his things. He felt a little overwhelmed with the religious stuff: a silver cross from Rita and a bible from Clifton and Carla. It was nice, and they meant well, and they were probably right about him needing something to believe in. He'd received some practical things too. Since Roselyn and Elaine were around Jake's age, Rita had them pick out some clothes for him. But the gift that meant the most was from Chance: a thick, black leather bound sketch book just like his old one and a set of charcoal pencils.   
  
Jake set the flimsy notebook in the room Rachel was sleeping in so that she'd have the picture he drew and then he headed outside for some fresh air.  
  
****************************  
  
Rachel put her hair up into a tight bun and picked up the notebook laying on her bed. She smirked. Jake had sketched the side profile of Chance's face. It wasn't cartoon-ish, though it captured a goofy look on Chance's face very well. The lines were a little rough, showing he hadn't put much time into it, maybe 10 minutes, but it was serious in a way. It captured her brother the way he looked when he was engrossed in some show on television. She laughed. At the bottom of the page, in Jake's careless scrawl it said "Scaredy Kat Chance." Rachel grinned. She had to show Chance this wonderful drawing.  
  
****************************  
  
Jake's cane left bullet-hole like imprints in the thick snow. The view of the skyline was spectacular. Jake brushed the snow off a fence post and gently pulled himself up to sit on it. The air was crisp and light. Soft whinnies came from the horses in the barn and in the distance the mountains seemed dark blue against the light gray sky. Jake wondered how long it would take to hike to those mountains, and then, once he reached the top, would he be able to see the farm and if it would hold that same patchwork quilt semblance as would be seen from the air.  
  
"It gets a little claustrophobic in there when we're all together." Jake turned his head to find Clifton standing behind him, trudging through the snow. "Can't blame you for disappearing." He had a sweet smile, one of those warm and comforting ones.   
  
"I didn't mean to be rude or anything... just needed a little air." Jake studied the ground.  
  
"Same here, and to let the horses out for a run while the snow's stopped." He started into the barn and then turn and gave Jake a look that said 'Get off your tail and come do something constructive.'  
  
Jake twitched his nose at the musky smell of the barn, like rotting wood and manure, and he was reminded of how he missed that chlorine and tar smell of the city.  
  
"You ever ride a horse?" Clifton asked, folding a soft blanket of the back of a large light brown horse. Jake shook his head. "I prefer something that can't get angry and possibly break my neck."   
  
Clifton laughed. "Well horses are a lot like us. If you treat them well, they are loyal and trustworthy ." He buckled the saddle. "Come on."  
  
Jake swallowed his nerves and stared at the large beast of an animal before him. Clifton had called her Ginger on account of her coloration. He caught his reflection in the large black eyes and sighed. Then he gripped the horn on the saddle and slipped a foot into the right stirrup. Taking a deep breath, he pulled himself up and swung his left leg over, wincing a little at the stretch. The breath he had been holding slipped out slowly in a white puff against the cold. The horse made a soft grunting noise and took a couple of steps forward. Out of a pure nervous instinct, he tightened the muscles in his legs, digging his heel into Ginger's side. A gasp escaped his chapped lips as he was thrown into the snow. Clifton pulled Jake to his feet.  
  
"I think I'll just stick to a motorcycle." Jake wiped the snow from his clothes.   
  
"What? You can't just give up like that." Clifton stroked Ginger's neck.  
  
"I'm not giving up. I'm stopping while I'm still in one piece." Jake frowned.  
  
"Haven't you heard that old cliche about getting back up? It was your own fault anyway." Clifton shook his head calmly.  
  
"For the record, I was the one thrown, not the other way around. So please explain how this was my fault." Jake pointed an accusing finger at the horse, his tail twitching in aggravation.  
  
"You have to trust her. She could sense it and, in return, didn't trust you. So get back on and try it again." Clifton had a father-like tone in his voice. Jake pulled himself back onto the beast and nervously patted her neck, whispering "please don't throw me."  
  
****************************  
  
Chance looked out the front window, hearing an old truck backfire as it rattled down the old dirt road. He was getting their stuff ready for home. After the service and small funeral for the baby tomorrow they'd be leaving. He wondered if the city would be in shambles. And then he wondered if villains took holidays off. He yawned and then chuckled, recalling the drawing Rachel had showed him. His left ear twitched. Mom was fussing about something downstairs. "Better go see who did what now." Chance said out loud.  
  
****************************  
  
Jake pulled off his shirt, making a wheezing winded sound as he did so. "Oh my Lord." Rita brought a paw to her mouth at the already deep purple hoof shape on Jake's stomach.   
  
"That old truck backfired and spooked Ginger. She threw him and then kicked out for added measure." Clifton said, just as Chance entered the kitchen.  
  
"What's going on... holy crud, Jake, what'd you do now?" Chance winced at the sight of the contusion.  
  
"I'm not sure exactly. I can't remember the last mirror I broke." Jake winced as his friend touched it. "Hey, man cut it out!"   
  
"Sorry." Chance pulled his hand back. "You're like a magnet for bad luck or something."  
  
"Tell me about it," Jake grabbed his shirt and went upstairs.  
  
****************************  
  
For future reference, the rating will be going up after this so unless you have this story book-marked then you will have to click 'all ratings' under the ratings box to find this. Reasoning: ebonezer made a review noting that the description of the suicide of Jake's father was a bit graphic; and I intend to get a little more graphic as this story develops. I hope you guys are in this for the long haul cause this baby is a gonna be a long one.   
  
Thanks again for all your reviews, especially ebonezer whose reviews I'd like to print out and frame as a constant ego inflator. 


	10. chapter 10

This takes place 4 weeks after coming home from Clifton's Farm. To clear things up for those of you who have read the entire Dream Series, the farm was the Furlong clan's home before the death of Chance's father. Once married, Clifton inherited it. Rita's home is a smaller place in something like a nice subdivision. I might make this a short part and then add another Dream Story to divide it up. Then again... who knows. I'm never good with making decisions. Happy Reading. And remember I don't own anything.   
  
Also on a more serious note, for any questions on what inspires me to write these stories; My parents are total snobby, self-centered, conceited, shallow conformists that care more about their non-existent social status than the happiness of their own children. My apologies if the content of this story or any or my stories offends anyone. But that's life; one big vindictive cycle of offensiveness. I sympathize with those of you that have to deal with the bullshit that comes with a broken home, and hope that you find/have found a positive way to deal with it.   
  
**********************  
  
FOUR WEEKS LATER  
  
Jake had fallen into a comfortable routine since returning home. He now woke up early and went to church on Sunday with Chance, followed by their normal brunch. Every other Monday he had his knee appointment, and then Thursdays belonged to Rachel. The rest of the week was work as usual combined with time spent in the simulator. Chance made it crystal clear that Jake would venture no further than simulated training until he received word directly from Rachel that Jake was capable of handling the stress of being a vigilante. Personally, Jake really didn't mind. He had gained some of his appetite back and looked a little more healthy, but he was a nervous wreck.   
  
Today was Monday. The Monday, he hoped, as he sat in his shorts and a long sleeve shirt on the cold table. Jake had been walking without the use of his cane for at least a week, and his last appointment had been hopeful. The doctor arrived with a smile on her face and the x-rays in her paw.  
  
"I've already looked them over." She sat them on the counter. "You're going to have a limp for quite some time, but that's completely normal. Other than that, you're fine. I don't want to see that knee again. Now go."   
  
"Finally," Jake jumped off the table. "Some good news."  
  
**********************  
  
Chance looked up from the engine he was working on when Jake walked through the door. The slim kat hung the car keys on a hook and tossed his coat into a chair.   
  
"You look pleased." Chance absently wiped his greasy palms on the sides of his pants. "Should I assume Doctor Pain released you from your ball and chain?" He referred to the time Jake had told him his doctor was this large husky woman with a sadistic urge to cause as much pain as possible to her patients.   
  
"Yep." It was a simple answer. He didn't need to elaborate on how happy he was to finally have permission to go back to some amount of normalcy.   
  
"Good. Now you can stop moping around." For a moment Chance looked down right menacing, but one look at his kitten-like face showed he was only teasing.   
  
"I do not mope." Jake countered with a pout.   
  
"Yeah? Then what do you call that?" Chance pointed a claw at the look on Jake's face.  
  
"A look of disgust." Jake stuck out his tongue and retreated upstairs, returning with two cans of cola.   
  
"You really should lay off this stuff." Chance caught the can tossed in his direction.   
  
"Health advice from a kat that puts mayonnaise on his pizza," Jake snorted.   
  
"Speaking of food, I'm starved. Chinese?" Chance asked, grabbing the keys.  
  
"Sounds good." Jake put his coat back on and followed his friend outside.  
  
**********************  
  
A painfully strong and familiar odor caught Jake's nose in the restroom. He shook his head with a sigh and ignored it. Then, as he was washing his hands, a stall door opened, smoke danced around a thin dark haired kat. He coughed and looked around, catching Jake's eye. For a moment he just stared, then smiled.   
  
"Jake! What's up man?" His black hair was a little curly and his black eyes were glazed.   
  
"Ruben?" Jake felt nervous all of a sudden.   
  
"Yeah, who else?" Ruben laughed. "What are you doing here?"   
  
Jake blinked. "It's a restaurant. What kind of question is that?"   
  
Ruben laughed loudly. "Hey! Eric's here with me. You should come sit with us." "Uh, no, better not. I'm here with someone." Jake nervously backed towards the door.  
  
"Well at least come have a smoke with us." There was a glint in Ruben's eyes.  
  
"I don't do that stuff anymore Ben." Jake's voice was quiet. "I need to go. See you around."  
  
Ruben narrowed his eyes as his former friend stuttered on his words and left quickly.  
  
**********************  
  
Chance looked up as Jake sat back down. "Hey, uh think we could get this to go?" He looked over his shoulder nervously, seeing Ruben leave the bathroom and head over to a near by table with a couple other kats.  
  
"Why?" Chance cocked his head, giving Jake a funny look. "Something wrong?"  
  
Jake jerked his head around to his friend, a paranoid look on his face. "Just ran into someone that I'd prefer not to run into again." His ears drooped as Ruben started in his direction, followed closely by a kat about Chance's size and another kat. As they neared, Jake's expression changed as he recognized the third kat to be a she-kat. He turned his head back to the table, a defeated look on his face. Chance noticed the trio, and then Jake avoiding eye contact. He recognized the thin Hispanic looking kat. It was the friend Jake had ran into last year. The other two must have been old friends as well. But there wasn't time to leave without them noticing.  
  
"Jake!" The larger one crossed his arms over his chest. "Don't you think it's a little rude to not come say hi to your old friends?"   
  
For a moment, Jake felt his left eye starting to twitch. "H-hey Eric."  
  
"Don't 'h-hey' me, punk." Chance couldn't tell if that was a teasing tone or not. "I've got someone I want you to meet." The she-kat stepped out from behind him. For a moment, Jake felt his stomach drop and his heart stop beating. "You remember Sama.."  
  
"Samantha." Jake stood up, the breath leaving him as he spoke her name. She had a soft look on her face for a moment and then it hardened.  
  
"Jake." She looked as if she was struggling with the decision of slapping him or not.   
  
"Ah, of course you remember her." A devilish smile swept across his brown furred face. "We're married."   
  
Jake felt light headed. Had he been eating or drinking, he would have started choking right there. "M-married?" His golden eyes met Samantha's indigo ones. "Sami... I... you... Eric? ERIC?" His voice raised a few octaves. She nodded.  
  
"But... why?" Jake was disgusted really. He couldn't believe that someone like Samantha would marry a low-life like Eric.  
  
"He never left me standing in the rain for 3 hours." Her voice was quiet and cut through his soul like a hot knife on a stick of butter. Jake slumped weakly into his seat, mouth hanging open slightly. Chance cleared his throat, and pulled out the pager in his pocket. It was the Swat Kat pager, but it looked like a normal one.   
  
"We better go." He looked at it and stuffed it back in his pocket. "Um, nice meeting you." He motioned for Jake to get up. The younger kat pushed himself up and looked into Samantha's eyes again and shook his head.   
  
"I hope you're happy." Jake's voice had drifted to that hollow tone Chance hated hearing. He started to leave.  
  
"Wait." She swallowed as he turned to face her. "There's been something I've been waiting to give to you, hoping I'd see one more time."   
  
Jake raised his eyes to hers. Her jaw was set and her eyes glowed with a newly resurfaced hatred. Jake gasped as her paw smacked him hard across the face. "Thanks..." Jake muttered and turned away.  
  
**********************  
  
Jake let his forehead rest against the icy cold glass of the window as Chance unlocked the doors. Hearing the soft click from inside, he sighed and opened the heavy squeaky door.   
  
"Why'd you leave her waiting for you for so long?" Chance asked as he started the car. Jake's jaw quivered. It seemed as if every bit of his past was determined to resurface.  
  
"I was supposed to meet her. But something came up... she never would let me explain."  
  
**********************  
  
"Sami, please just listen to me!" Jake called after his girlfriend as she headed towards her car.  
  
"Why, Jake? Why should I listen to you?" She whirled around, her hair twisting and tangling in the wind.  
  
"Look, Sam, I... I'll tell you everything... Just... meet me in the park, tonight, 6:00." He hurried to get the words out as he saw his mother's Trans Am park.  
  
"Okay. You swear you'll show up?" She sighed.  
  
"I swear on my life." Jake stopped, looking her dead in the eyes as he made that promise.  
  
**********************  
  
"What happened?" Chance asked softly.  
  
"My dad and I... got into another fight when I got home." Jake stared out at the passing cars.  
  
**********************  
  
"Your teacher called. You weren't in class today." James stood in his son's bedroom door way.   
  
"Yeah? She must have been mistaken." Jake leered at him from digging through some clothes.   
  
"You haven't been in class all week." His father's voice was deep like thunder.  
  
"Nope, I was definitely there." There was a smirk on his face.  
  
"I bet my ass you were there." James frowned deeply as his son stopped what he was doing.  
  
"Other than an old bat saying I wasn't there, what proof do you have?" Jake hissed defiantly.  
  
James smiled sarcastically as he held up an expulsion notice. "Your teacher didn't call today. She called a week ago. You haven't been in class because you were expelled." His father cleared his throat and read the notice aloud. "Dear Parents of Jacob Clawson, We regret to inform you of the expulsion of your son due to possession of drugs and tobacco products on campus, as well as insolence towards the staff and a blatant disregard for school rules." He stopped, reveling in the look of fear across his son's face. "Thought you'd got away with it, didn't you?" Jake stepped back as his father took a few steps closer.  
  
**********************  
  
"I did something stupid at school, didn't tell them about it. Naturally the school called." Jake continued as Chance took the long way home.  
  
**********************  
  
"What in the hell were you thinking? Lucky for you, a sizeable donation to the science department as well as the Special Needs classes guarantees you will still graduate!" Jake gasped and darted around his father and down the stairs. "Hey!" The large man spun around and darted after his son down the stairs and out the back door.  
  
Jake gasped looking over his shoulder, seeing his father behind him. His feet slipped a little on the wet grass and mud splattered up onto his clothes and fur. He took a deep breath and jumped for the fence, but not quick enough. James reached out and grabbed his son, who let out a blood curdling screech as his arms and wrists caught the pointed fence posts, ripping off fur and splattering blood. "Dad! Stop it!" He kicked out. "Let me fucking go!" His voice cracked and he gasped as James tossed him hard into the fence and started kicking him.   
  
"You'll watch your mouth with me!" The large kat growled loudly as his toes connected with his son's rib cage.  
  
**********************  
  
"It ended up being just this big screaming match for a few hours." Jake swallowed, seeing Chance raise an eye brow.   
  
**********************  
  
After some more kicking, James finally just picked up a large branch and bashed Jake in the back of the head. The thin 16 year old spun into a world of darkness. He didn't know how long he'd been laying there in the yard, but when he woke up, it was pouring rain and he was covered in mud and blood. It hurt to move, to breathe. Jake groaned and rolled over, dizziness sweeping over his battered frame. There was a metallic taste in his mouth and his throat. He gagged and vomited, then passed out.   
  
**********************  
  
"I tried to explain to her what happened. But she wouldn't hear a word of it. She never spoke to me again." Jake frowned, remembering that night suddenly very clearly, he felt sick to his stomach, and was thankful when they pulled into the salvage yard.  
  
"Tough break, huh?" Chance unlocked the door to the garage. "She was pretty. I imagine she meant a lot to you."   
  
Jake shook his head. "She DID. But whatever. She and Eric can have each other. I'm over it. He just wanted to shove her in my face like some sort of trophy. Her problem, not mine." He flicked a strand of hair out of his face, noting how desperately he needed a hair cut and at the same time not really caring how grubby he looked. "Hey now that I'm free, how about a few rounds? You look like you could use a workout anyway." Jake dodged a pillow.   
  
"You're on. But if I snap you like the twig you are, I don't want to hear you whine about it." Chance flexed his arms.   
  
"Right, winner does dishes for a week." Jake grinned as he darted down to the hangar.  
  
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Okay. Notice that the rating has gone up. There's a problem with Chapter 5, it won't load all the way for some reason. I've tried reloading it but I think it might just be my computer. This chapter's short. So sue me... actually don't because I just spent all my life savings on a bunch of greedy people for Christmas. This one gives insight to what happened between Jake and Samantha; was mentioned in chapter 7 I think. Note I am leaving town for the holidays, turns out though that by some stroke of bad luck I have a whole week off coming up. Hopefully I will get more written. Thanks for your reviews. Keep 'em coming.  
  
~Nyte Kat~ 


	11. chapter 11

Jake sighed and turned on the kitchen light, tossing a glance at the clock on the microwave; 4:21 am. The water made a hissing sound as he turned on the faucet and steam spiraled upward as the water warmed up. "Dishes for a week..." Jake snorted to himself. "Of all the things, I had to suggest dishes for a week... I'm such a loser." He rolled his eyes and began scrubbing a plate. As far as he could tell, a dream hadn't woke him up this time. It was as if he'd gone from a deep sleep to wide awake in just a blink of an eye. Before he knew it, the few dishes were done and on a ratty dish towel drying. Then he plopped himself down on the couch and turned on the television. After going through all of the channels at least 3 times he restlessly turned the set off and opened the door that led down to the hangar.  
  
They had sound-proofed the walls of the hangar some time ago for no other reason except to keep the house somewhat quiet. Jake was grateful for that fact as he put on a techno mix cd of Rob Zombie, turning the volume up enough to where he could hear the fast paced beat over the sounds his fists made in connection with the punching bag.   
  
*********************  
  
"... still under investigation for his involvement with Colombian drug lord Kato Sanchez. His son Ruben is in custody of the Enforcers and undergoing interrogation concerning one of the largest drug shipments to be stopped in Megakat Harbor last night..." Chance turned off the alarm blaring the news, shaking his head at the mention of Jake's former friend.   
  
He turned the knob on Jake's bedroom door and pushed it open slowly. Sun streamed through a cracked panel in the dark blinds, allowing enough daylight for Chance to see that the bed was empty. "Well, at least I don't have to toss him out of bed this morning." He chuckled and began his search for Jake.   
  
After a thorough search of their tiny apartment, it was obvious Jake was not just laying around. Chance opened the door down to the hangar and was greeted with the annoying clash of metal and screaming that his best friend liked to call 'music'. "Found him."  
  
*********************  
  
Jake balanced carefully on his right foot, side kicking the sand bag. Each time, he raised his left leg higher until his toes were parallel with his head. Then he leapt into a spin kick, faltering on the landing as the music cut off.   
  
"Good to see you up so early." Chance sat down on the bench by the stereo. "Trying to make up for that beating you took yesterday?" A teasing smile lit up his face.   
  
"That *beating* I took? If I recall correctly, I lost on a technicality." Jake crossed his arms, trying to regain some amount of pride.  
  
"The technicality being me kicking your tail relentlessly." Chance retorted. Jake just shook his head and wiped the sweat off his brow. "So how long have you been up?"   
  
Jake looked at the clock, almost 8 am. "A few hours I guess."  
  
*********************  
  
~~~Meanwhile~~~  
  
Eric Katciatori sat facing the Plexiglas window, holding a brown phone to his ear. "What you need, man?"  
  
On the other side, staring back, holding an identical phone and wearing an orange jumpsuit was Ruben.  
  
"I've got an idea who ratted me out. It's a toss up between two kats."  
  
"Give me names and I'll get some answers." Eric cracked the knuckles on his right paw by squeezing it into a tight fist.  
  
"A she-kat named Colleen Furst. You can find her in the old west end of the city, the poor side of town. She's a doctor at the free clinic there. You know the one?"  
  
Eric nodded, writing down the information. "And the other?"  
  
"The other is Jake."  
  
"Clawson?" Eric looked up.  
  
Ruben nodded. "That's the one. You should be able to find him at the enforcer owned salvage yard on the outskirts of town. He works and lives there."  
  
"Right. I'll take care of them." Eric's grin was malicious. "I've been waiting for a reason to pulverize Clawson since high school."  
  
"I want to know who did this. And I want them finished off."  
  
"Got it."  
  
*********************  
  
Colleen Furst swept a loose strand of strawberry blonde hair out of her deep green eyes as the kitten she'd just patched up jumped off the table. "He should be fine as long as he doesn't go pretending he's a Swat Kat again." A smile lit her face.  
  
"I don't think he's going to ever stop pretending to be a super hero." The kitten's mother rolled her eyes. "Thank you so much."  
  
Colleen shook her head as her last patient left and she began closing up. She took off her white smock and hung up her stethoscope; then straightened her blue silk blouse and black pants which sort of flared at the bottoms. She was young for a doctor, and many expected her to jump right into a well paying position at the city hospital, but she opted for the free clinic and a paycheck signed by the government. Several higher-ups called her a do-gooder and said she was wasting her skill, but to the people in Megakat City who couldn't afford medical insurance, she was a saint.  
  
It had been dark for two hours by the time she closed the tiny, rundown building and locked the door. A single dim street light cast odd shadows on the small parking lot. Colleen fumbled with the many keys on the single ring with a red rabbit's foot dangling from it, finally untangling her car key from the mess. It was cold, though the air was moist and a light drizzle caused her long hair to stick to her face. Just as she stuck the key in the lock and began to turn a shot rang out and the glass of her driver's side window shattered. Shrieking, she stumbled backwards, her keys still hanging in the door. A chill ran down her spine and her tail twitched nervously behind her. She turned and, seeing nobody there, reached for her car door. A pair of strong gray furred arms wrapped around her thin frame, squeezing her tightly. She tried to struggle, managing to break free only to have her head slammed into the hood of the car. She couldn't see the face of her attacker, just that he was a large kat with yellow eyes and a strong grip. Before she could scream for help, the brawny kat rendered her unconscious.  
  
*********************  
  
A large pounding from downstairs abruptly pulled Jake from his nap on the couch. For a moment he wondered if Chance had locked himself out again, but that was impossible as Chance had gone to pick up a car and would need his keys with him in order to start the tow truck. He sighed and trudged down the creaking wooden steps. The pounding on the door continued.   
  
"Yeah, what do you want?" Jake yelled loudly from the last step, a sudden feeling of uneasiness sweeping over him.  
  
"I'm here to pick up a car." The voice was deep, but familiar. Jake narrowed his eyes and looked around the empty garage.   
  
"There's no car here." He hopped off the step and went over to the store computer, feeling his heart beat faster.  
  
"What do you mean there's no car here? It's a junkyard! Come on it's freezing out here." The owner of the voice was obviously anxious to get inside. Jake pressed a couple of buttons on the computer, turning on a prototype security system he'd been working on in his mass amounts of spare time. Then he grabbed a crow bar Chance had found outside and opened the door.  
  
"Eric?" Jake lowered the crow bar. "What are you doing here?" His ears twitched with suspicion.   
  
"I looked you up. Can I come in?" There was something in his eyes that made Jake nervous. Eric's eyes didn't match the friendliness in his voice.   
  
"Uh, yeah, but not for long." He stepped out of the way so that his former friend could come in. The garage was relatively organized. There was a stack of batteries and some exhaust pipes in the far corner and a desk with a computer, some odd looking parts and a few books on engineering and advanced physics.   
  
"Still a nerd I see." His tone was still that fake happy sound.  
  
"So why are you really here?" Jake absently set the crow bar down on a work bench and crossed his arms over his chest.   
  
"Well, it's really on behalf of Ruben that I'm here. You see he's tied up at the moment."  
  
"I heard about what happened. It was all over the news." Jake leered up at the bulky kat. Eric was more fitting as a bouncer for a club than a lackey for the son of a drug lord.   
  
"I bet you know all about it." Eric smirked.  
  
"What do you mean?" Jake cast a nervous glance back at the computer.   
  
Seeing the thin tom turn his head, Eric snatched up the crow bar. "He's got a couple suspects."  
  
"Suspects?" Jake met Eric's eyes, then lowered them to the crow bar resting in the large paws.  
  
"Yep." He swung. Jake ducked and searched for something to defend himself with. Finding nothing, he dodged another swing and kicked Eric in the gut. The effort was in vain. Eric was like a brick wall. A cynical laugh erupted from the large kat and he faked a swing and Jake ducked, driving his crotch right into Eric's bent knee. Black spots of pain clouded his vision and an almost primal meow of pain screeched from his mouth.   
  
"You should know I fight dirty, Clawson." He set down the crow bar and kicked Jake in the back of the head, sending the doubled-over kat spiraling into darkness.  
  
*********************  
  
Chance grumbled as he pulled into the garage. It had started to rain as he was just finishing up reattaching the fan belt in that old lady's car. He was freezing and as luck would have it, neither he nor Jake had managed to get around to replacing the heating coil in the truck. He honked the horn a couple of times to let his friend and partner know that he was home. "I bet he's still asleep." Chance started towards the garage, but stopped noticing the deep tire tracks in the mud. "Those weren't there when I left." His brow furrowed in thought and he shrugged it off. As he neared the door, something started to nag at the back of his mind. Something was off kilter. The door was open a crack.   
  
"Jake?" Chance said as he stepped inside the garage, noticing the light was already on. "Jake!?" He called up the stairs, something blinking red caught his attention out of the corner of his left eye. "What's that?" Chance stood in front of the computer screen. A window was open with the words: PLAY NEW RECORDING. His paw nearly swallowing the mouse, he moved the curser to the 'play' button and clicked. His deep blue eyes widened as he watched the footage.   
  
Chance sighed, playing the recording over again. How was he going to find this guy? He needed to talk to someone who could get him in the prison to talk to Ruben Sanchez. Then a sudden thought popped into his mind. He grinned, knowing just who would be more than willing to help out.  
  
*********************  
  
Calico Briggs brushed her long blonde her in slow strokes. It had been a rough day and now that she was finally home, she could pamper herself. She pulled the pink satin robe tighter around her waist and sipped her Irish Creme. The guilty pleasures of being the Deputy Mayor made putting up with Mayor Manx worth all the trouble. She turned on the lamp on a glass table and curled up in the white velour chair beside it, picking up a book and turning to a marked page. A sudden gust of cold air turned several more pages and fluttered her golden locks. She looked up with startled yelp.   
  
"Sorry to frighten you Miss Briggs, but I need your help."   
  
She lowered the paw from her mouth and smiled. "T-Bone? Come in and close that window. It's cold out side." She blushed and pulled a fleece blanket off the back of the chair and covered herself in it. T-Bone smirked. Jake would have loved to seen this. Jake. That's why he was here.  
  
"I need authorization to interrogate Ruben Sanchez for information on a tall gray furred kat with black hair named Eric. I don't know his last name. But he's about my build only taller."  
  
"Might I ask why?" She set her book down, forgetting about her lost place.  
  
"I have documentation of a kat-napping. This 'Eric' character is behind it. The only lead I have is that he works for this Ruben guy." T-Bone crossed his arms. "I need to find out where he is, and I need to know as soon as possible."  
  
She nodded. "I'll make a couple of phone calls."  
  
*********************  
  
Jake's eyes burst open. The first thing he felt was cold. It was freezing and his clothes were sopping wet. Then he noticed the pain in his head and the dull throb in his groin. Finally, he noticed that he was bound tightly to a wooden chair. Craning his neck around he found that he wasn't alone. In another wooden chair, a few feet away, was a blonde she-kat also tied up. A small thin red line of blood was dried to her face. Suddenly he was drenched in ice cold water. He whipped his head back around and found Eric standing in front of him with an empty bucket.   
  
"Glad you could join us Clawson." His voice was like cold steel.  
  
"What do you want?" He shivered, the tight ropes burning against his bare arms.   
  
"One of you ratted out Ruben. He gave me your names and I'm here to get an answer. Now tell me, is it the goody two shoes ex-girlfriend who dumped him because of his lifestyle? Or the bitter ex-best friend who went through rehab and then joined the enforcers only to be kicked off? My guess is it was you." He pointed a finger at Jake. "But I'm sure he has his reasons for involving you in this as well, Colleen."  
  
Her head jerked up. "Well he's got the wrong she-kat. So if you would kindly let me go, I'll just forget this every hap..." She was cut off by a sharp slap to the face.  
  
"I'm afraid I can't do that. So you keep your trap shut. Because unless you know who tipped off the enforcers, or you wish to confess, I don't want to hear another sound out of that pretty little mouth of yours. Got it, sweetheart?"   
  
She nodded, fear evident in her eyes.   
  
"What makes you so sure either of us wasted our time telling on him?" Jake asked, bravado in his voice. He needed to keep the attention focused on him. While he didn't know Colleen, Razor's instincts were taking over, his training as a Swat Kat had boiled to the surface.   
  
"The same goes for you, Clawson. Don't think just because we were friends once that you're safe. Because once I find out which one of you ran your mouth, I'm closing yours permanently!" Eric turned on his heel and started towards the large metal door. "Oh, by the way, this is a meat freezer. The walls are very thick so screaming for help is a waste of time and energy." On that note he closed the door behind him, leaving two shivering felines in a 4 walled frozen cell lit only by a dingy light bulb. 


	12. chapter 12

My sincere apologies for the long wait for this chapter. My computer decided to attempt suicide. The good news is that it is recovering fine and I can continue my work. Hopefully the intervals between chapters won't be quite so long now that I'm able to resume writing. Thank you all for being so patient.  
  
-Nyte Kat-  
  
************  
  
-A brief review of the events in Chapter 11-  
  
Last time in Swat Kats: Perchance to Dream: Jake Clawson, along with new character Colleen Furst, has been kat-napped by his old friend Eric Katciatori, direct orders from Ruben. Can T-Bone find his partner before its too late? Will Eric do as he was told and kill Jake and Colleen, or will he let his own desire to see Jake suffer cause the lone Swat Kat to foil his plans?  
  
************  
  
Calico Briggs walked out of the stairway onto the roof, a manila folder in her paws. "T-Bone?" She looked around, there was no sign of the jet, nor of the swat kat. She sighed. There was no way he'd just forget about her after asking for help.  
  
"I'm here." The burly blonde kat stepped out of the shadows. "What did you find?"  
  
"Ruben Sanchez was more than happy to tell me all about his friend Eric. He said to check the meat packaging plant on West Burrow Lane. That's near the bay."  
  
"What did you tell him?" T-Bone asked, worried she might have hinted at knowing about the kat-napping.  
  
"Don't worry. I told him it was concerning a problem with the IRS. He bought it. Ruben even told me where to find Samantha, his wife."  
  
T-Bone cocked his head to the right as he listened. Questioning Samantha might not be such a bad idea. He'd drop in for a visit before heading over to the plant.   
  
************  
  
Colleen stared down at her lap, her paws tied behind the back of the wooden chair she was sitting in. She was cold, though not drenched like the kat in the chair a few feet away. "You don't look like the kind of kat Ruben would associate himself with." She spoke timidly, anything to get her mind off the cold.  
  
"Neither do you," Jake replied, keeping his eyes on the door while trying to turn his wrists so that he could try and claw the ropes. It was a task he was failing miserably at. "Ruben always dated trashy junkies."  
  
Colleen narrowed her eyes a little in thought. "He wasn't so bad you know, if he would have just got his act together."   
  
"If he wasn't so bad, why are we here now?" Jake shot her an annoyed look, visibly shivering.   
  
"Well you obviously didn't think he was a bad kat once; you were his friend." She snapped back.  
  
"He had something I thought I needed. That's the extent of our friendship." He hissed.   
  
The heavy metal door opened and the bright lights from outside cast shadows in the freezer.  
  
"Glad to see you two are getting along so well." Eric sneered. "It's a pity though. I wouldn't make friends with this one so soon miss Furst. Because once I'm done with you two, he's kitty litter."  
  
Jake sighed. "Spare us the cheesy lines, Eric. You're not so tough. Once Ruben gets tired of you tagging along, he won't think twice before killing you."  
  
"Shut up, Clawson. Or I'll just kill you slower." Eric growled.  
  
"Ruben doesn't keep friends, Eric. Once he's through with you, you'll be just another corpse."  
  
Eric's lips curled back and he growled deeper. "I warned you," he said through gritted teeth, balling his right paw into a tight fist. Jake stiffened as Eric's fist connected with his lower jaw, causing his head to jerk to the side.  
  
Jake moved his tongue around in his mouth before spitting out some blood and a tooth. Wincing, he attempted to move his jaw, finding it to be either broken or dislocated.   
  
Colleen gasped. Never did she ever think that breaking up with a guy like Ruben would lead to this. She looked up to find Eric walking towards her. "P-please... I didn't do anything... I..."  
  
"Now, Colleen, I thought I told you to keep that pretty mouth shut." He slapped her. "I'll do the talking here. You don't say anything unless I tell you to. Got it?"  
  
Colleen nodded.  
  
Eric smiled and grabbed a fist full of her hair, pulling her head back. "Good." He licked his lips and extended a claw. A small laugh escaped his thin lips. "I bet I know what Ruben saw in you." He dragged his claw lightly down her throat to the top button on her blouse. Colleen whimpered as he slashed the first button away, opening her blouse a little. "I bet underneath your neatly pressed clothes, you're a little vixen." Another button fell to the floor. Colleen's jaw quivered. Eric pulled a little harder on her hair; his face twisting into a sinister grin as he extended the rest of his claws and violently slashed away her shirt, not caring the he had also dug into the soft flesh just above her breasts. She could not control the cry that left her mouth.  
  
"I told you to keep quiet!" He slapped her again. Then he lowered his voice to a whisper, leveling his face with hers, barely inches away. "I don't like girls that scream." He grasped her chin, having already let go of her hair. "Now tell me," he tore away her lacey white bra. "Did you," he tossed it to the floor, exposing her small breasts. "Tell on Ruben?"   
  
Colleen shivered as one of his filthy paws grasped one of her breasts. "N-no." She spoke firmly before spitting in his face.  
  
Jake watched with a look of disgust. "Leave her alone, Eric."   
  
"What's the matter, Jake? You don't want to see what I have in store for this lovely example of the perfect she-kat body?" Eric didn't spare Jake a single glance as he wiped the spit from his face. "I always thought you were a fag. Just like your dad." He laughed.  
  
Jake took a sharp breath. "What do you know about my father?"  
  
Eric's attention shifted. "Don't tell me you didn't know. Everyone knew why your dad killed himself."  
  
Jake cocked his head. "What the hell are you talking about?" Drops of blood dripped from his semi-open mouth as he spoke, each movement sending sparks of pain through his face. But the attention from Colleen had been shifted. That's what was important.  
  
"All the bruises you came to school with, I assumed you knew first hand about your daddy's little problem." Eric found joy in tormenting Jake about his past.  
  
"That he was a drunk?" Jake snarled. "So was your father. I don't see what the big deal is."   
  
"Oh, Jake." Eric laughed. "Your father was gay."   
  
************  
  
T-Bone crept down the dark hallway towards the living room. There was the soft yellow glow from a lamp and the back of a she-kat's head could be seen from behind the couch. Carefully, T-Bone reached a paw around and clasped it over her mouth, muffling cries of shock and fear.  
  
"Hush," he spoke softly. "I'm not going to hurt you, just promise you won't yell." He maneuvered in front of her so that she could see him. "You'll be quiet?" She nodded and he removed his paw.  
  
"What do you want?" She whispered.  
  
"I need to ask you some questions about your husband." He knelt so that he was eye level with her.  
  
"Is he in trouble?"  
  
"Yes and no. It all depends on how fast I find him. You see, somebody tipped off the enforcers on his buddy Ruben. And Ruben sent him to take care of a kat he thinks is responsible. Do you know where I'd be able to find him?"   
  
Samantha paled. "Oh no." She brought a paw to her face. "I know exactly where he would be. I also know who called the enforcers."  
  
T-Bone exhaled a long breath. "Good. Because I don't think we have much time."  
  
************  
  
"My father was not gay. Maybe a pathetic bastard. But not gay." Jake spat.  
  
"You calling me a liar?" Eric hissed. "Why do you think he killed himself? He was given an ultimatum. Leave and the whole world would know and lose all credibility. Or stay and be the boss man's little lap bitch. He cracked under the pressure." He pulled a gun out of the back of his jeans. "Now I'm giving you an ultimatum. Keep your trap shut or let me shut it for you."   
  
Jake's jaw hung loosely. There was nothing else to say. So he continued to twist his wrists behind the chair, doing his best to loosen those ropes.  
  
"Now where were we," Eric refocused on Colleen. "Oh, I do believe I was here." He slashed the ropes binding her ankles to the chair legs, followed by the ones binding her paws behind her. "Now, I expect you to cooperate." He aimed the gun at her chest, then retied her wrists, then kicked the chair away. Colleen gasped as he unzipped her pants and pushed her down to the cold floor. Eric pulled a roll of tape out of his pocket and put some over her mouth.   
  
Jake closed his eyes, focusing on everything but the sound of her muffled cries and his grunts as he violated her. He felt sick to his stomach. Finally, he managed to get one claw to part of the ropes and began sawing at it.   
  
************  
  
"What do you want me to do?" Samantha was in tears. She'd just told the swat kat the events of the past week, leading up to Ruben's arrest.   
  
"You need to call the enforcer's and tell them what Eric has done." T-Bone instructed.  
  
"B-but he'll find me. He'll kill me!" She put her face in her paws.  
  
"No he won't. You can get a restraining order. And protective custody. Nothing is going to happen to you. And Eric will be locked away for a very long time."  
  
Samantha wiped her eyes and nodded. "You're right." She picked up the phone.  
  
************  
  
Jake opened his eyes. His paws were free. Swiftly, he slit the ropes around his ankles and gripped the wooden chair.   
  
"Hey Eric!"   
  
Eric jerked his head around just in time for the chair to come smashing into his head. Jake pulled him off of Colleen and then pulled the tape gently off her mouth. She was shaking and crying too hard to say anything.   
  
"Here, put this on." He pulled off his shirt. "It's going to be alright."   
  
Colleen shook her head, gasping, her eyes wide.  
  
"It will, I promise, you just need to calm down, okay?"  
  
"L-look out!" She cried.  
  
Jake spun around to find Eric picking up his gun and starting for him.  
  
"I warned you Jake. I warned you. But you can't listen to anyone, can you?" Blood dripped down Eric's face. There was a soft click as he prepared to fire the gun. "Obviously you don't care about your own life. So I'll take hers." He pointed the gun at her head. "Now move out of my way!"   
  
************  
  
The Turbokat cut through the evening skyline, trailing watching the enforcer cars below speed through the streets.   
  
"Stand down, Swat Kat. The enforcers will handle this!" Feral's usual warning came from the radio.  
  
"Aw, can't I at least watch you screw up?" T-Bone retorted, knowing it would be best for him to hang back and watch.  
  
************  
  
Colleen stiffened as Jake reluctantly moved out of the way. Eric moved quickly, jerking the frightened she-kat to her feet by her arm. Sirens could be heard, coming closer.   
  
"Now how do they know about this." He held pressed the gun into Colleen's head.   
  
"Looks like Ruben set you up." Jake spoke calmly. "You should let us go. If you're going to prison, you don't want it to be for murder."  
  
"Killing you would make it all worth while." Eric turned the gun on Jake. "I took you under my wing, Jake." He held on tightly to Colleen, hearing the echo of footsteps outside the freezer. "I gave you a place to go when your pops was beating you senseless. All of those times when you was sleeping on my floor, getting your blood on the carpet while your dad was getting banged in the ass and your mom was popping pills, all the weed I let you smoke for free and then you just up and leave."  
  
"It wasn't my fault Eric." Jake's ears twitched, jaw throbbing.   
  
" 'It wasn't my fault Eric'. That's bullshit, Jake! Bullshit!" Eric's grip tightened on Colleen's arm. "I've heard that shitty line enough. That's all you've ever had to say about anything that happened to you. That it wasn't your fault. You don't know how much pain you've caused in your life Jake! You hurt everyone you come in contact with! You stabbed your friends in the back. And Samantha? You can't apologize for what you did to her, leaving her with that burden!"  
  
"Eric, please. You're not making any sense. Just let us go." Jake held up his paws.  
  
"Of course it doesn't make any sense to you! You betrayed her trust! And left it up to me to clean up your mess!"  
  
"Okay, yeah. I screwed up, but it's not like anybody gave me a chance to explain what happened!" Jake took a step forward.   
  
"Fuck you, Jake!" Eric screamed, the gun shaking in his paws, trying to keep a steady aim at Jake's head. "Fuck you and every one of your excuses!" He fired the gun.  
  
************  
  
Thus ending chapter 12 *angles sing and golden light envelops my story* . I await your glorious reviews. 


	13. chapter 13

-A brief review of the events of Chapter 12-  
  
Last time in Swat Kats: Perchance to Dream: Jake was the son of a gay man! And Colleen gets raped. But what's this about Samantha's burden? What exactly happened that day so many years ago, when he was supposed to meet her? Will he ever find out? The Enforcers try to handle things, but shots were fired anyway.   
  
************  
  
"This way. The shot came from in there!" A young enforcer pointed towards a partially open freezer.   
  
"Good work, corporal. Eric Katciatori, this is the Enforcers. Come out with your paws where we can see them!" Commander Feral called loudly, motioning for the special ops team to prepare to enter the freezer.   
  
  
  
************  
  
"Shit," Eric hissed, letting Colleen go.  
  
"It's over, Eric," Jake panted, shaking on the floor. He clutched his left shoulder with his right paw, blood dripping through his fingers.   
  
"It's not over!" Eric's voice cracked as he leveled the gun for another shot.  
  
"Katciatori," A gun was cocked. "Put the gun down." A young Enforcer instructed behind Eric.   
  
Eric started to back towards the door. "Don't move! I've got six little friends and they can all run faster than you so put the fucking gun down!" He referred to the bullets in his revolver. It was old. The kind probably handed down as an heirloom.   
  
"Eric..." Jake winced. "Just do it. There's more of them outside. If you run, they'll just shoot you down."  
  
************  
  
T-Bone watched anxiously from the roof across the street, a pair of binoculars in his paws. He watched until Eric turned himself over to the Enforcers. On the radio, he heard the call for an ambulance, and decided it was best to go home and wait for any phone calls so as not to look suspicious.  
  
************  
  
Jake held his shoulder tightly, watching the enforcers cuff Eric. He took a sharp breath and turned his head to face Colleen. "Are you going to be alright?" He asked quietly, the adrenaline gone, and the complete pain in his jaw began to sink in.  
  
Colleen shook her head. It was the dumbest question she'd ever been asked. How was she supposed to be alright after this. Jake seemed to read her thoughts.  
  
"I guess... that was a... stupid question..." He squeezed his eyes shut. Things seemed to be going slower than they were supposed to. In his own mind the words sounded deep and strained. When he opened his eyes there were kats in uniforms everywhere. He turned his head to where Colleen had been; she was gone. Someone was shining a light in his eyes; strange sounds coming from his mouth.  
  
"It's going to be alright, son..." The kat said. He felt something soft and warm draped over him. Some how it didn't seem to be enough to stop him from shaking. Why was he shaking? He didn't feel cold, or scared.  
  
"... in shock..." another voice said. Jake reached his arm out for anyone, grabbing someone's wrist.  
  
"... Chance..." he said, trying to get his mouth to cooperate.   
  
"What did you say?" The kat, an EMT he guessed, asked.  
  
"... my brother... Chance Furlong..." He was being lifted into an ambulance. The EMT said something, he couldn't make out the words. An oxygen mask was strapped onto his face, and a lot of pressure was being put on his shoulder. The ambulance ride was quick. It seemed to Jake as if one minute he was in the ambulance and the next he was in the Emergency Room. A she-kat was barking orders to nurses and assistants around her. Then the scent of the gas he was breathing changed to a sweet odor. All the commotion surrounding him just vanished.  
  
************  
  
"He's got your eyes."   
  
A young kat and she kat leaned over him, smiling and pointing. The kat seemed so familiar but he couldn't place him. It was like staring into a reflection. He knew the she-kat in an instant. His mother, only young and radiant. But the kat? Who was he?   
  
************  
  
Jake's eyes fluttered open. The happy couple was gone, replaced by a sterile white tiled ceiling.   
  
"Good morning, Jake." He turned his head. Rachel?  
  
"...unh..." He groaned.   
  
"Your jaw's wired, buddy. Go easy on the talking." Jake turned his head the other way. Chance?  
  
"... Colleen. Is she okay?" He strained to get the words out, as if he was trying to be a ventriloquist and not move his mouth while he spoke.   
  
"That girl? She was hysterical when we got here. Nobody would tell us what happened to her." Rachel crossed her arms over her chest.  
  
"... is she okay?" He didn't want to talk about what happened to her. It wasn't right.   
  
"I'm sure she's fine. Right now, I'm more worried about you." Chance leaned back in the plastic chair. "You lost a lot of blood. That bullet hit an artery."  
  
For the first time, Jake noticed he wasn't wearing a shirt and that his shoulder was bandaged in heavy white gauze.  
  
"How're you feeling?" Rachel leaned against the wall by the window.  
  
Jake narrowed his eyes for a moment, "tired."  
  
"Wait until the anesthetics wear off completely. You won't be tired, but you'll wish you were asleep." Chance joked, referring to the pain he would feel later. When Jake didn't so much as pretend to laugh, Chance tried a different approach. "So... what happened?"  
  
Jake gave him a funny look, "I got shot."  
  
"No." Chance rolled his eyes. "At the garage, what happened."  
  
"You saw the video?" Jake closed his eyes. The afternoon sun was coming through the open blinds.  
  
"Yeah."   
  
"That's what happened."   
  
Chance sighed, giving Jake an annoyed look. "You know what I mean."  
  
Jake frowned, "I don't wanna talk about it right now."  
  
There was a tense moment of silence before Rachel spoke up. "Maybe one of us should go inform the nurses that he's awake."  
  
Taking the hint, Chance stood up, sighed once more, and then left.  
  
"Jake, I know you probably don't want to relive yesterday's events, but as your psychiatrist, I feel it's important for you to talk to someone."  
  
Jake offered her a pleading look, but didn't start talking about what happened. "Who tipped off Ruben?"  
  
"What?" Rachel was a little taken aback by Jake's question.  
  
"Who was it?"  
  
"I'm not sure it's a good idea for you to know the details." She gave him a hard look.  
  
"Who was it, Rachel? I need to know." Jake didn't try to hide the irritation in his voice. He was angry. Fortunately, Rachel didn't have to divulge any information, because at that precise moment, a middle age nurse and a graying doctor entered the room, followed by a weary-looking Chance. While the doctor began to explain to Jake the extent of his injuries, Rachel motioned for Chance to join her in the hallway.   
  
"He wants to know who informed the enforcers about Ruben." She ran a claw through a tangle clump of hair.   
  
"Do you think he wants to go after Ruben?" Chance gave her a concerned look. "Because Jake isn't a vindictive kat."  
  
"I don't think it's that at all. I'm just afraid of the repercussions of him knowing."  
  
"When his old friends ran into us at that restaurant, he wasn't really phased by it. He wanted to leave, like he was actually scared of them." Chance ran his paws through his dirty blonde hair. Jake just got the okay to use his knee again and now this. "You know, I think once the doc says he can go home, I'm going to give him his bike."  
  
"What?" Rachel gave him an incredulous look.  
  
"You know, that motorcycle I was restoring for him."  
  
"Yeah, I know. But why?"   
  
"Well, maybe if he was able to have some time to himself he could think things through." He shoved his paws into his pockets. The doctor left the room.  
  
"Well, he's fine to go home. He'll have to come back in a few weeks to get the stitches removed from the shoulder. And he'll need to have some dental x-rays made."  
  
They listened patiently to what the doctor had to tell them before returning to the room. Jake was already up and had put on the clothes Chance had brought for him.  
  
"I need to run. I've got a patient in an hour." Rachel straightened her shirt. "I'll be expecting to see you tomorrow, Jake, for your appointment."  
  
Jake started to say something, but Chance spoke first. "He'll be there."   
  
  
  
************  
  
"I need to speak to Leslie's husband, Chris," Jake said quietly on the way home. His head was resting against the window.  
  
"What do you want to speak to that idiot for?" Chance stole a glance at Jake.  
  
"He has my mom's things. I need to go through them."  
  
Chance frowned in thought, "I thought you didn't want any more to do with that mess."  
  
Jake made a sound that sounded like a cross between a laugh and a grunt, "I need to speak to Samantha. Did you find out where she lived?"  
  
"What makes you think I was looking for her?" Chance slouched over the wheel.  
  
"You found me, didn't you?" Jake leaned back in the seat and laid his arm across his eyes.  
  
"Yeah... what do you want to go talking to her for? From the way she slapped you, I'd think she'd be the last person you'd want to talk to." Chance turned on the windshield wipers as it had started to rain.  
  
"She doesn't understand what happened. She hates me because of some lie somebody told her." Jake shifted.  
  
Chance let out a long low sigh. "We'll see, okay?" Jake made another grunt. "I've got something for you, when we get home. I think you'll like it."   
  
"Really?" It was the most uninterested response Chance had ever heard, far from what he'd expected.   
  
"You'll see."  
  
The rest of the ride home was awkward. Chance would try to hold a conversation with Jake. He even told him about how he'd seen the deputy mayor in her bathrobe, but all he received was the same detached grunt. Jake seemed a million miles away, so Chance had decided to stop talking. The only sounds were the squeaking of the wiper blades, the jingle of the keys hanging from the ignition, and the growl of the engine.   
  
When he finally pulled the truck into the yard, Jake didn't move. "Hey, you going to stay out here all day?"   
  
"... hmm?" Jake jerked suddenly.   
  
"If you want, you can sleep in here. Your snoring can get pretty loud." Chance grinned. Jake rolled his eyes and got out. He started upstairs but Chance stopped him.  
  
"Wait just one second. I didn't spend all my spare time working on this for you to just go to sleep and forget about it."  
  
"Unh... come on Chance. I just want some sleep." Jake frowned, leaning on the railing.  
  
"You slept for nearly 15 hours at the hospital. Just humor me, okay?" Chance flipped on an extra set of lights.  
  
"Fine." Jake stepped back down and collapsed in a chair. Chance was grinning ear to ear.  
  
"You're going to love this." He gripped the heavy tarp in his massive paw. "You paying attention?"  
  
"Uh huh." Jake blinked tiredly. "I'm watching."  
  
Chance's smile broadened as he pulled away the cover. "Well?"  
  
Jake cocked his head to the side and then stood up, walking slowly towards the motorcycle. "You built this?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"And... I never noticed?" "Well, I started making it for you when you got injured. Burk and Murray dropped off the parts to some Enforcer patrol bike. I figured if I fixed it up, gave it a new paint job and everything, you'd love it."  
  
Jake knelt down, inspecting the handy work. "That carburetor... I made that for the Cyclotron... "  
  
"Well, that's what I told you." Chance pulled a small key ring off a hook on the wall. "Go ahead, start her up."  
  
Jake couldn't help the kitten-like smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. He straddled the bike, sitting down on the leather seat, and hesitantly held the key over the ignition.  
  
"Go on. It won't blow up." Chance chuckled.  
  
Jake allowed himself an amused laugh and turned the key. The sound was music to his ears, the purring of a finely tuned engine. He revved it a little, reveling in the feeling of his hands on the bars. "Chance..." Jake cut it off. "This is amazing."  
  
"Yeah I know. And the way your luck's going, you'll need this." He pulled a black helmet out from under a shelf. "Since it seems someone's got it out for you." Chance joked.   
  
"Thanks," Jake shut it off.  
  
"The weather is supposed to be clear tomorrow. I was thinking maybe you could drive it to Rachel's office." Chance couldn't help feeling that he was more excited about giving Jake the bike than Jake was about receiving it.  
  
"It really is nice. Thanks." Jake said again.   
  
"Are... are you alright?"  
  
"What happened to Colleen... " Jake started.   
  
"Yeah?" Chance's playful grin slipped away.  
  
"I... I don't know. Look, um... this is really nice. Thanks." Jake stood up and started up the stairs. "I think I'm going to lay down for a little bit."  
  
"Jake... whatever happened there. It didn't have anything to do with you. It wasn't..."  
  
"... my fault. I know." Jake finished, unable to forget what Eric had said the day before. "It wasn't my fault." He rubbed his jaw absently, feeling the wires that held it in place through his cheek.  
  
************  
  
And that's the end of Chapter 13. I've got a lot of plans for this story kind of mapped out in my head so just bare with me.   
  
-Nyte Kat- 


	14. chapter 14

Well you guys... it has been a long time since I last added a chapter to this creation. So a review of past events is neccassary:

Jake is held up with Colleen.. Ruben's ex. Colleen is raped, Jake gets shot. Enforcers save the day with the unofficial help of T-Bone and Deputy Mayor Briggs. Jake is home from the hospital with questions buzzing in his head. What will he do next?

Jake sat on the floor of the cold empty house. His brother in-law had begrudgingly handed over the key for while. Now, in the looming silence, Jake sat in his father's huge leather chair, looking through an old box. He was searching for something, anything that might disprove Eric's accusations. It was a daunting task, difficult in the poor light coming through the window, but Chris had the power cut off, unable to afford the extra bills. Jake still had to contact Samantha. He needed closeur, he needed to know that he tried to fix things. First, however, he needed answers. Then he found something. It shouldn't have been in his parents' house. In fact, Jake was sure he already had it. His birth certificate. But there was a discrepency. The name of his father listed was not "James Clawson". Jake sighed, shaking his head. "This isn't right." He pulled out an empty file folder and put the birth certificate in it. He also found some documents addressed to James Clawson, though it was getting too dark to read them. Shaking his head, Jake gathered all the papers together into the folder, put it in his backpack and left.

Chance watched from the doorway as Jake carefully spread out several peices of paper, documents, on the coffee table. His eyes were wide, as if he was amazed by what he saw. Then Jake shook his head and leaned back on the couch, a look of confusion and bewilderment on his face.

"What's up with the mess?" Chance asked, sitting in his recliner.

Jake shook his head slowly. "Hey, Chance... what are the odds of a kat's father's name being different than that on the birth certificate?"

Chance shrugged. "With the divorce rate, I'd say it's pretty common."

"Divorce..." Jake pulled the file folder off the floor and began sifting through the papers. "Divorce papers." He shook his head. "I don't remember hearing anything about a divorce." Jake twitched an ear, taking a second look at the document he held in his paws. "As much as he hated me, you'd think he would have thrown it in my face if I wasn't his son." He handed Chance the paper with the name that matched that of his birth certificate.

"Michael Caine Clawson." Chance read aloud. "Maybe your dad just changed his name."

Jake shook his head. "That's my uncle, my dad's brother."

"So that would mean your uncle is your father and your father is really your stepfather." Chance said slowly.

"And I found this." Jake made a face pulling out a picture he'd been hesitant to look at again, let alone show his best friend.

"Whoa! Jake that's fucked up!" Chance pushed it away.

"That's my dad and a co-worker." Jake closed his eyes while he spoke. "My dad... er step dad I guess... was gay." He looked at the picture of his dad kissing another guy and sighed.

"Maybe you should try and get in contact with your uncle." Chance said encouragingly.

Jake twitched an ear, looking at Chance through the corner of his eye. "I don't know..." He walked off.

Jake sat on the floor of his room, his back against the foot of his bed. His jaw still hurt a little, as did his shoulder, but not nearly as much as his head did right now. "If I ever needed a drink..." Jake said to himself. "It would be now." Rubbing his eyes, he made up his mind and picked up the phone. After a few long rings, a tired sounding woman picked up.

"I need to know about visitations." Jake said timidly. "Do I need to set up an appointment?"

Getting the information he needed, Jake hung up the phone. He drew his knees up to his chest and rest his chin on them, closing his eyes, focusing on the steady throbbing in his skull.

Jake sat at the table, staring at the black coffee in his blue mug. He'd tossed and turned for 6 hours, popping aspirin like they were candy. Now, 4 am, he had resigned himself to a night of insomnia and made coffee. Caffeine was supposed to help relieve headaches. Jake was depending on it to do so. He was on his third cup. "I should call Rachel," He thought. "She should know about my plans." Then he shook the thoughts out of his head. There was only one thing he really wanted to do with Rachel and it wasn't sitting in an over stuffed couch pouring his heart out. Jake pushed the nasty thoughts of Rachel out of his head. He didn't need to have sex on the brain now. He needed to figure out what he was going to say, how he was going to say it, and prepare himself for the answers he'd get. Besides, after he did what he had to do today, he had to see Rachel anyway. Then he groaned. He really hated these sessions. Sure, when they started, Jake really did need to talk, but now, it felt like she was pulling teeth... and next she wanted to put him under. Rachel had been talking about a Hypnotist, so that she could start unraveling his unconscious. Jake shook his head. He didn't want to, but it didn't matter what he wanted. Rachel had control over whether or not he got back in the gunner's seat. He wanted that more than he wanted Rachel beneath him. Jake sighed again, then finished off his coffee. Pouring another cup, he saw the pill bottles with his name printed on them sitting on the counter. He'd been slowly coming off the bloodpressure meds. The docs had been monitoring his bp and it was better. But the anti-depressants... he wanted nothing more than to flush them. Taking them made his head stop. He couldn't think, so at night, when he didn't take one, all the thoughts that had been building up, unable to process would hit him and he'd toss and turn, head aching, mind reeling. "Not today." Jake said quietly. "I won't get answers if I'm numb."


	15. chapter 15

Disclaimer: I dont own the swat kats and any comments I make that are derrogatory against homosexuality are strictly for the feelings of the character I am writing about. I'm not gay but I do have gay friends and I support them and their beliefs

"Megakat Enforcer Prisoner Number 6947 please exit your cell." A heavy guard said sternly, and the thin light brown tom left his cot and followed one guard with another following behind him. "You have a visitor." The guard behind said. "This is your first one in... what... 5 years? Or have you had one since you've been here?"

The tom just kept his mouth shut as he was led into the visitation room. It was a single flat gray table with two chairs on each side in a tiny room with a viewing window and a guard. Sitting at the table was a younger kat, one who looked just like him when he was young. It was like staring into a fountain of youth. The kat had a nervous look in his green eyes. "My eyes" thought the tom. "Those are my eyes."Then the a name slipped off the older kats tongue. "Jake..."

Jake looked up, sucking on his lower lip nervously. "Mike... d..." he started to calling him by what he was, but couldnt. It would be awkward.

"What are you doing here?" Michael Clawson asked as he sat down, facing Jake... his son.

"I was... um going through some of m.my... some stuff and I found this." Jake opened a folder he'd had sitting on the table to reveal the birth certificate, divorce papers and other things with his uncle's name listed next to his mothers.

Michael sighed. "Jake... look..."

"Why didn't anyone tell me? Did you and mom just think it wasn't important for me to know who my dad was? That I should have to just accept some faggot abusive fat ass drunk as my father?" Jake kept his voice low, despite it's shaking.

Michael smiled. "I wanted to tell you." He watched the emotion twisting and turning in his son's amber green eyes. "But your mother, when she left me, wanted nothing to do with me. I convinced my brother, when she married him because it would look good, to let me see you, at least under the pretenses that you were my nephew. I know it's lying and it isn't right. But I tried."

"That's bullshit." Jake huffed. "If you really wanted a relationship with me you should have tried to fight it instead of accepting the lies. I've been lied to about everything. You can't possibly expect me to believe that you tried." If there hadn't been a guard, Jake was sure he'd be yelling. As it was, his claws here clenched on the edge of the table.

"You're looking for someone to blame, Jacob." Michael had stopped smiling. "It doesn't work that way. I know I made mistakes. I wouldn't be in here if I hadn't. But looking for someone to blame for the way things are won't solve your problems."

"What do you know about my problems?" Jake hissed.

"Up until you were legally an adult, my lawyer kept me posted on your medical records, your grades, your suspensions and expulsions." Michael blinked. "I know about what you did and where it put you. I know what happened after James did what he did. Then you joined the enforcers and I could only keep up with your life so much. What happened to in the acadamy was easy. Seeing as I'm in Enforcer Prison. You knew I was here. You were there when I got arrested."

Jake closed his eyes for a moment, trying to control his temper. "That doesn't explain why you didn't try to tell me who you really were."

"What would you have done, Jake? Rebelled further because the person who you thought was your father now had no control over you?" Michael shook his head. "How would that have gone over? Not only would you have reason to get into more trouble, but he would have even more of an excuse to treat you like shit."

"He didn't need an excuse." Jake replied. "He did it anyway." He was shaking.

"I don't know what to tell you." Michael leaned back in the plastic chair, paws on the table. "Did you come here looking for answers or sympathy? Because I don't have any of those for you. There are no answers for what James did to you. There are only excuses. The same goes for why I didn't step up and be a father, like you think I should have done. All I have are excuses. I'm not going to apologise for what he did. Blame your mother. She's the one who married him and ignored it."  
"She's dead" Jake said dully. "So is Leslie."

Michael grunted. "Good."

"Good?" Jake shook his head. "You don't care at all?"

"No. I don't. Why should I? Why should you?" Michael asked calmly.

"Because Leslie was your daughter!!" Jake raised his voice.

"No she wasn't." Michael sighed. "Jake, your mother was a fucking whore."

"No." Jake shook his head.

"How the hell do you think she was able to stay married to a gay man?" Michael asked. "I'll give you a hint: it wasn't the sex."

Jake shook his head and closed the folder. "You know what? Just forget I even came by."

"Hey what do you want me to do? Come up with some sad story for ya? I thought you said you were tired of the lies." Michael leered. "If you didn't want the truth you shouldn't have come."

Jake stood up, shook his head at the kat who was his father, and turned around.

"Now that you know who I am, does that mean you're going to come and see me?" Michael let the gaurd pull him towards the door.

"No." Jake replied, letting the door slam on the way out, earning him a death glare from the guard outside the visitor door.

"Your effects..." The guard handed over Jake's helmet, backpack, keys and wallet.

"Thanks." Jake said dully, leaving.

"Afternoon, Jake." Rachel looked up from some paperwork as her 2:00 appointment came in.

"Yeah..." Jake sat down on the couch.

"I want you to meet Dr. Wiskerstein. He'll be here in a little bit." Rachel said with a smile.

"Dr. Visker-who?" Jake replied with sarcasm.

"He's German. And he's a hypnotist." She frowned.

"Oh... right. Look, what do you really plan to solve by pulling thoughts out of my head. I mean, if they were meant to be heard or seen or whatever wouldn't I already remember them?" Jake crossed his arms over his chest.

"We've been over this." Rachel replied. "You know why I want to do this. And in the end it will be good for you too."

Jake slouched. "You got any aspirin?"

"You can't take that with what you're on." Rachel narrowed her eyes.

"I have been and it hasn't done anything except get rid of my headaches." Jake replied smartly

Rachel gave him a hard look. "What's wrong with you today?"

"Nothing is wrong with me today." Jake paused. "Or would that be an exception considering ther must be something wrong with me everyday for me to be here."

"Why are you being so cynical?" Rachel sat down.

"Because being here, spilling my guts out so that someone can analyze my every fucking action is stupid."  
"Why do you say that?" Rachel leaned back.

"Because it means I'm looking for an excuse, something to blame it on." Jake rationalized.

"You're rationalizing again." She replied.

"I know!" Jake snapped. "I rationalize everything! Do you know why?"

"Because you feel everything you do or others do deserves a rational explination." Rachel replied.

"And digging around in my feelings looking for a reason why I'm here is not rational." Jake said sternly. "What are you going to do with all these repressed memories when this doctor of yours digs them out? Tell them to me to see if I can remember? Or blame these events for making me the way I am now? Which, by the way, I see nothing wrong with the way I am now."

Rachel quirked an eyebrow. "You're a train wreck, Jake. You've been in and out of the hospital lately like clockwork, your emotions are interferring with what you do, which is very, _very_ dangerous. You were just kidnapped by an old smoking buddy. And don't tell me it was no big deal, something happened but you won't talk about it."

"Why is it important? What if what I'm hesitant to talk about isn't what happened to me? Then what good does it to do to talk about it? It won't help." Jake snapped.

"Colleen won't tell anyone what happened. She hasn't let a doctor examine her, they've got her in a padded room, Jake. She won't speak, she's hysterical. And you know what happened. That's something only you and Eric know and no one is talking." Rachel leaned closer. "You aren't just hurting yourself, you're hurting others too."

Jake's jaw just hung loose for a few moments before he lowered his head, closing his eyes. He said something almost inaudible.

"What was that?" Rachel asked quietly.

"Eric... he ... violated her." Jake forced out. "I tried, I couldn't stop him." He put his head in his paws.

"What do you mean when you say 'violated'?" Rachel pressed further.

"He did just that." Jake snapped again.

"Jake, I have to submit this, you realize this. You're telling me she was raped." Rachel said.

Jake winced at how plainly she said that word. "I know."

"And this makes you a witness to the crime. When it goes to court, you have a high chance of being summoned for a statement."

"Rachel, I got your point, now can we move on, please?" Jake pleaded.

"This isn't easy to talk about, Jake, but it needs to get out." Rachel said softly. "It makes you angry, that this happened?"

"Yes it makes me angry. Why wouldn't it make me angry? Do you think all guys enjoy seeing a she-kat get taken advantage of like that? It was brutal. It was disgusting. It. Was. Wrong. End of discussion!" Jake yelled.

"No, it isn't the end of the discussion. I won't ask anymore about Colleen, but I have plenty to ask about you." Rachel argued. "If you'd cooperate, it wouldn't be like pulling teeth."

Jake took a deep breath. "My father was gay." There, he said it. The thought that had been plaguing him since Eric threw it in his face.

"I beg your pardon?" Rachel was mildly shocked by Jake's out burst.

"Except, he isn't... wasn't really my father. He was really my uncle." His voice was quiet again. "Do you know what that means?"

Rachel waited, knowing it was a rhetorical question.

"It means that there's more lies."

"Do you know who your real father is?" Rachel cocked her head a little.

"Yeah. I do."

"And?"  
"And he's been in prison for ten years. I asked him why he never tried to tell me and he said it would have only caused more problems for me. More lies." Jake rubbed his forehead.

"Why is he in prison?" Rachel asked. "And where, Alkatraz?"

"Enforcer Prison. He was an Enforcer, arrested for conspiracy. He got arrested at Thanksgiving when I was 13." Jake shook his head. "I didn't think anything of it. I didn't really know him that well. Just an uncle in a screwed up family."

"I'm sure he has a good reason for not trying to tell you." Rachel assured.

"No he doesn't. I just told you his reason." Jake smarted off again.

"And what justification do you have to prove it?"

"I talked to him this morning. I went down there and saw him. And all I found out was that my mom was a 'whore' and my sister wasn't his daughter. And that if he would have stood up then it would have just meant more beatings from my 'step-dad' slash uncle or whatever the hell that gay bastard was." Jake ranted.

"Are you sure he was gay?" Rachel asked.

Jake pulled the picture out of his back pack. Eric told me he was, but I didn't believe it... and my real dad, Michael, he said it was true. Everyone knew. Except him, James thought it was a big secret."

"How does it make you feel?"

"What? James being gay?" Jake asked. Rachel nodded and he groaned. "Sick. It's disgusting, It's unnatural. I'm glad the bastard shot himself. He didn't deserve to live."

"That's a rather homophobic statement." Rachel replied.

"I'm not homophobic... I just think its wrong." Jake said. Rachel started to reply but there was a knock at her door.

"Come on in." She stood up, meeting an elderly slightly heavy kat with gray hair. "Doctor Wiskers." She smiled.

"Ah, Miss Rachel Furlong and this must be your patient, Jacob Clawson." He smiled and extended his hand to Jake. Jake arched an eye brow and rudely acknowledged the doctor with a simple "Hello". Rachel glared at Jake, but shook it off.

"I'm so glad you could make it." She was excited, but remained calm. "When would you like to start sessions?"

Dr. Whiskers nodded to himself. "We can start now if you like?"

Rachel looked at Jake and then at the time. "Sure."

Jake's eyes widened, "Rachel, I don't know if that's such a good idea I mean we just met and all..."  
"Jake," Rachel put her paws on his shoulders. "Just have a little faith, okay?"

"He's grabbing me by the throat and slamming me into the wall!" Jake lay flat on his back, eyes closed, whiskers twitching.

"What is he doing to you now?" Dr. Wiskers asked.

"I'm crying so he kicks my stomach." Jake's body jerked, as if he was actually being beaten. "Shut up! He's yelling at me to shut up. He slams my head against the wall again. I'm dizzy, really dizzy. And he's still kicking me, screaming at me to stop crying but I'm not sure if I am. I can't breathe!" Jake's body struggled and twitched.

"When I count down from 5 to one you will wake up! 5-4-3-2-1!" Dr. Wiskers yelled and Jake's eyes snapped open.

He gasped for breath, struggling to sit up. Rachel helped him. "Are you alright?" She tried to get him to look at her. He shook his head, pushing her away. "Where are you going?" She stood. Jake mumbled something, bringing his paw to his mouth as he opened the bathroom door and slammed it behind him.

"What do you think?" She asked the doctor.

"There's a lot of work to do. We are finished for now." He gathered his things. "We will need to reschedule."

Rachel nodded and Dr. Wiskers left.

"Jake?" She knocked on the bathroom door. "Are you okay."

He opened the door, his face damp from water being splashed on it. "Just leave me alone, okay?" He picked up his bag and his helmet.

"Jake..."  
"I never said I wanted to know what I went through." He shook his head. "I don't know about your other patients, but I remember everything now. And I wish I didn't!"

"I never said it would be easy, either. But it..."  
"It has to be done?" Jake's nose twitched. "No. No it doesn't. None of it has to be done. Now just leave me alone!" He left her office, strapping on his helmet.

Jake stared bleary eyed at the counter through his glass. The clear liquid and the ice distorting the texture of the worn old wood. He couldn't remember how long he'd been there, or which drink he was on. All he seemed capable of doing was ordering more. Finishing his gin on ice, he heard the order for last call and ordered one last drink. As the burning liquid seared his throat and made the room tilt a little more, he heard ringing. He shook his head, almost sending him off his stool.

"There a Jake Clawson here?" The bartender yelled, holding the phone in his paw.

"That... would be me... " Jake struggled to wave to the bartender as he spoke, slurring.

He handed Jake the phone. "Y... yeah.." Jake tried to sound sober.

"Jake?" It was Chance. "I've been calling all over trying to find you!"

"Well... you foun' me..." Jake made a noise that was a cross between a hiccup and a burp.

"Crud... okay don't go anywhere... I'm on my way!" Chance hung up the phone.

Jake shook his head, handing the phone back to the bartender. He downed his gin and staggered to the bathroom.

Chance pulled up to find Jake sitting on the steps outside the bar, leaning against the railing. "Jake..." He knelt down in front of his friend. "Wake up buddy." He slapped Jake's face lightly.

"Hunh?" Jake lifted his head slowly, then moaned, grabbing the sides of his head.

"Can you stand up?" Chance had his paw on Jake's shoulder.

Jake pulled himself up weakly, pushing Chance back a little.

"You alright, buddy?" Chance's ears flattened against his head and he took a step back.

Jake closed his eyes, leaning against the railing. He shook his head slowly, before leaning over the railing. Chance winced at the sound that followed, along with the heavy smell of alcohol. "Better here than in the truck." He made a face. When Jake was done, Chance helped him into the truck. "I called Rachel wondering where you were. She said it wasn't a good session. We've both been all over looking for you."

Jake didn't respond, just let his head rest against the cold glass, his breath fogging up the window.

"Look, I know this is hard. Well, not from personal experience, I don't. But it's obvious that it's taking a toll on you. But you need to let Rachel do her job and stop fighting her. Just stop fighting, okay?"

Jake turned his head slowly so that he could look at Chance. "That's your advice as a friend? To give up?"

Chance frowned. "I'm not saying give up, I'm saying stop fighting off help. You can't do this alone, Jake."

"Pull over." Jake hissed.

"What?" Chance looked at Jake.

"Pull over! Unless you want... new decor..." Jake clamped his paw over his mouth.

Chance taped his fists and let into the sand bag with a heavy array of punches. He wasn't sure what to think. When they got home, Jake crashed on the couch and Chance called Rachel to let her know Jake was home. "Drinking..." Chance felt the pressure up to his biceps. "That's his idea of dealing with this...." Sweat dripped down his face, and he yelled tearing the sandbag down with a right hook. "Damn it!!"


	16. chapter 16

_Okay guys I'm trying to fix this thing so that different parts of the story are sepparated... but it isn't working. I don't have microsoft word on here and word pad for some reason when I put it online, no longer has the separations. I've been trying various things. Something will work sooner or later._

Chance left when it was day light and returned when it was dark, he had a couple bags in his arms and a deep look in his eyes. Turning on the living room lamp, he saw Jake still sprawled out on the couch.

"Get up buddy," he said.

Jake grunted in response. "I am awake."

"Well then sit up." Chance pushed Jake's legs off the couch and began to empty the contents of the bags onto the coffee table.

Jake twitched an ear as Chance set a shot glass in front of each of them and a bottle of Scotch in between.

"I bet you feel like shit." Chance grinned. Jake just stared at him. "Well this will make you feel better, for now." He filled both glasses to the brim.

"What are you doing?" Jake asked tiredly.

"Helping you." Chance said almost darkly. "You want to do this your own way, and I don't want you to do this by yourself... it's called a compromise."

"Chance... " Jake shook his head. "This won't... "

"Solve anything. Yeah I know. But if you believed it, would you have done it last night?" Chance picked up his shot glass, giving Jake a look that asked why his wasn't also in his paw. "Bottoms up." He grinned slightly, taking his after Jake took it.

"Now... what happened yesterday?" Chance asked, purring another shot.

"You talked to Rachel." Jake hesitantly picked up his shot glass a second time.

"Patient confidentiality. She wasn't lieing when she said I wouldn't know what the details were." Chance said pouring the third.

"She had this hypnotist guy from another country put me under when I told her I didn't want to do it... she doesn't understand that I honestly don't want to unblock any blocked memories I have." Jake squeezed his eyes shut as the alcohol burned down his throat.

"So tell her." Chance said matter-of-factly.

"Weren't you listening? I _did_ tell her. But as long as she sees it in my best interests then I really can't say anything about it." Jake looked at the light gold reflection on the table from the Scotch. "This stuff is expensive you know?" He took another shot.

"I know somebody who knows somebody." Chance said, making Jake laugh lightly.

"I... I went and saw my dad yesterday... my real one." Jake said.

"So that's where you were all day? How'd that go?" Chance asked.

"Not the way I had hoped... I guess I wasn't really sure what I wanted to know when I went and I didn't get what I wanted." He replied downing another shot. Chance followed suit.

(an hour later)

Jake laughed hysterically as Chance delivered to punch line to possibly the lames joke he'd ever heard... but he couldn't help it. As dumb as it was... it struck a chord and he know had tears brimming in his eyes.

"So... like I was saying... I met this dame... and I mean DAMN when I say dame 'cause she was hot! And I was going to give her number to you but I lost it when we were in her bed..." Chance said with a snort.

Jake laughed. "It's okay. I got the number to the chick I want in my bed... I just haven't got her that far yet... I haven't been able to get her out of her office... heh"

"She hot?" Chance quirked an ear, his eyes bleary.

"Tchyeah!" Jake said smartly. "Ugly chicks have too much baggage."

"Do I know her?" Chance was hopeful he'd get a paw in it.

Jake nodded taking another shot. He mumbled something behind the shot glass.

"Whats muffumisher?" Chance asked.

"I said... " Jake hesitated. "It's your sister..."

Chance gave Jake a hard look and then burst out laughing. "Aw crud, buddy that was a good one!"

Jake gave a mild "heh" in response before standing up slowly, stumbling slightly.

"Where ya' goin?" Chance wiped his eyes.

"I gotta pee... want me to announce it on the news?" Jake staggered down the hallway.

"Sure why not!" Chance yelled. "It might get ya laid!"

His response was the bathroom door slamming.

(the next morning)

Jake groaned waking up on the living room floor, almost knocking over a bucket beside him. "What the..." he looked in the bucket. "Ugh!" Jake recoiled, then grabbed his head. "Shi-i-it." He looked around slowly. Chance was passed out on the couch. The phone rang. Jake looked around, seeing the evil mechanism shrilling loudly on its charger base. He stood up, clumsy and disoriented. Then he picked up the phone knocking over some stuff. "Chance and Ja... " It rang loudly in his ear. "Dammit!" He clicked talk. "Chance and Jake's salvage and repair?" He asked as if he wasnt sure thats where he was.

"Jake!" Rachel.

"What!" Jake yelled back.

"Are you okay?" She sounded like she was hoping he'd say no.

"Should I be?" Jake looked around for the clock. When she didn't answer he continued. "Yes I'm fine."

"Well good. I'm glad you're okay at the expense of other's nerves... now can I talk to my brother?"

"He's asleep. What... not good looking enough for you to talk to me?" 'What am I doing?!' Jake smacked himself in the forehead, then winced.

"What? Jake it's not my job to make opinions on your looks." She hissed.

"But you can make opinions on everything else?" Jake continued.

"I'm a psychiatrist. It's my job to analyze things. They aren't opinions." She replied.

"Look, I'm tired of this patient thing... can't we have a more normal relationship?"

"Come again?" Rachel squeaked.

"Ugh... never mind. CHANCE!" Jake yelled.

Chance slowly opened his eyes, making a face. "What?!"

"Rachel wants you." Jake dropped the phone next to Chance and went into the kitchen, starting a pot of coffee.

(later)

Jake slid out from under the suv he'd be working on. "You hungry" He looked over at Chance, who wasn't actually working on a car. He was on the phone. "Never mind." Jake said quietly and left the garage for the kitchen. He scrubbed the grease off his paws and made a turkey on wheat sandwich. While he sat at the table, he looked at some stuff he'd written down. It was a crumpled yellow piece of paper with directions on it and a phone number. At the top was a name written in large letters. "Sam..." Jake said to himself. Rachel had been telling him to let the past go, that the people in his past were part of the problem. But Jake wanted closure. He needed Samantha to know what really happened. "Tonight... " Jake said to himself.

"Tonight what?" Chance asked coming into the kitchen.

"Nothing." Jake swiftly stuffed the paper into his pocket. Chance gave him a look of disbelief. Jake sighed. "I'm meeting some girl..."

Chance grinned. "Oh that's all?" He pulled out a couple slices of bread. "Well... have fun... where a condom..."

"ha ha." Jake rolled his eyes.

"Oh... that's right... like you'll get that far." Chance laughed.

"Chance... you know what... never mind..." Jake hissed as he put his plate in the sink and walked off.

"Whoa... touchy today..." Chance shook his head.

(That night)

Samantha pulled her silk robe around her tightly as she walked to the door, wondering who in the world would be there. Not bothering to look through the peep hole, she just opened the door. "You!" She started to slam it, but Jake caught it. "Samantha, Sammy wait." He said softly. "We need to talk."

"I don't have anything to say to you." She said stubbornly.

"But I have a lot to say to you." Jake let himself in and shut the door behind them. "I'm sorry for what happened in the past. And I know you don't want to hear my excuses but I did have my reasons."

"What? Because your family's rich and you're too good to be seen with me? Is that why you left me standing in the rain? I loved you Jake!" She was crying. After all those years, she was still hurting.

"That's not it at all." Jake said softly. "My dad... well he wasn't my real dad... that night... Sammy... he beat the hell out of me, I've got the medical records to prove I was admitted to the hospital the next day if that's what you want. But the reason I couldn't meet you there was because I was unconscious in my backyard!"

Samantha gasped, "Jake... " She sat down, still crying. "Why couldn't you tell me?"

Jake shook his head. "I don't know." He sat beside her. "I'm sorry, for not being able to. It's made everything so fucked up." He put his head in his paws. "It's like everything I did then... it's effects are taking place now."

"What do you mean?" Samantha asked quietly, putting her paws on Jake's.

"My mom died this past year, my sister killed herself, I had a nervous breakdown that put me in the hospital... then Ruben got arrested and Eric... he... then I found out my dad was gay and he wasn't my real dad." Jake just shook his head. "Sam, I'm sorry." He was still shaking his head, "I'm so sorry."

"Jake, look at me." She tilted his head up, seeing tears in his eyes. "I'm sorry too, that I didn't give you a chance to explain things. It's not your fault."

"Sh... don't tell me that. I've heard that more times in the past two or three months to believe everything that happens isn't my fault. Some of it _is_ my fault or I wouldn't be in this mess."

"What mess?"

"All of it... if I would have just listened to James... if I wouldn't have rebelled so hard... I would have never been friends with Eric and Ruben... I should have gone to college... I wouldn't have gotten kicked out of Enforcers... I'd be part of some important company... and not living in a salvage yard... maybe even still be with you."

Samantha shook her head, realizing how close she was to his face. "I.. Jake..." In the next moments she found herself locked in a series of passionate kisses and movements. His paw swept up her nighty while she undid his pants. Soon there was a pile of clothing on the floor and heavy breathing in the air. Jake's eyes closed lightly, a soft moan escaped his lips. It had been so long since he'd been with a she-kat, he was worried he wouldn't last. Samantha pushed him away.

"What..?" Jake watched her reach under the couch for a box. She handed him something wrapped in shiny black foil. And Chance's words came back to him. "Right..." He said softly and found himself immediatly back into the motion.

(Just after 2 am )

Jake had dressed and gathered his coat and helmet. "Here's my number." Jake gave it to her. "I know this won't ever work... us... because of Ruben... but maybe we can... do it again sometime?"

Samantha shook her head. "No, we can't."

Jake gave her a hard look. "Why?"

"Because this shouldn't have happened. I was acting out of the heat of the moment. With Ben in jail and then you showing up... I wanted someone so bad." Samantha opened the door. "Maybe I'll run into at the store or the movies or something." She handed him back his number.

"Sam... Don't do this to me... I said I was sorry... what more do I have to do?" Jake pleaded.

"Get on with your life. I can't be a part of it. _We_ can't be together." She frowned, watching Jake step outside her door.  
"Sam..."

Samantha just shook her head and shut the door, locking it immediatly.

Jake felt the hurt swell up inside of him, he felt like his heart was going to burst. "Fucking bitch." He muttered as he strapped on his helmet and revved up his bike. "Stupid fucking bitch!" He yelled over the roar of the engine. "What in the hell was I thinking!" Jake yelled at himself as he peeled out of the driveway. "Did I honestly think I would come out of this okay? That I wouldn't get hurt?" He shook his head, pegging out the bike and running a redlight. "I hate her!" He screamed. "I FUCKING HATE HER!" Another light and a stop sign. "Stupid mother fucking BITCH!" Jake found himself running out of highway. The pavement gave way to gravel and uneven ground. The speed and the loose earth collided and Jake was thrown, his bike skidding in an opposite direction. "DAMMIT!" Jake threw off his helmet, yelling at the sky. "WHY?! Why does it always have to be like this!" He picked up his bike and moved it off the road. Something ran down his leg and he reached a paw down, discovering he'd ripped his jeans and skinned his leg. Jake kicked a large rock, sending it flying into a tree. He sat down in the soft dew covered grass. He sighed and layed down, staring at the dark star speckled sky. "Just once... I wish there was really someone up there. That it meant something to ask for a miracle. I just want to forget about all of them. Everything... just to start over." Fatigue swept over him and he closed his eyes.


	17. chapter 17

**Hey all. I appologise for my typos and spelling errors. Like I said, I don't have MS Word so no spell check. Okay about the last chapter... you guys should have known, if you've been reading from the beginning of the series that there was some.... er... tension of sorts building up inside Jake that finally gets released... but he gets played and he gets mad. The part at the end where he runs out of road... actually happened to a friend lol. He was speeding and the asphault just ended and he hit this old dirt/gravel road, dropped his bike out from under him, got up, threw his helmet and started swearing. Anyway... I realised that there is an edit feature... duh... after how many sories and chapters I've posted... so I hope to fix my errors.**

* * *

The sun beat down harshly on his face causing him to sweat. The sweat then trickled down his head into his eye. Jake sat up slowly, his body stiff and his leg aching. The sun was bright and it was abnormally warm outside. Spring was early. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and looked around. It looked like one of Chance's infamous short cuts. A rough old dirt road filled with ruts and potholes and nothing but endless fields of tall grass on either side. He strapped his helmet to the back of his seat and started his bike with ease despite his crash. There was something to be said about Chance's skills as a mechanic. But now wasn't the time. Time... "what time is it anyway... " Jake had forgotten to put on a watch. The sun was kind of high so he figured it was around noon. He hit the highway and was home in about 30 minutes. When he pulled into the salvage yard, he saw a familiar car sitting by the truck. "Aw come on... can't I get a break for just a week?" Jake parked the bike and went through the garage into the house. Chance and Rachel were sitting on the couch. "What is this, an intervention?" Jake joked.

"Samantha called." Chance said.

"I dont know who you're talking about." Jake said plainly, walking past the living room and into his bedroom. Sighing, he opened the window and climbed up onto the roof.

Chance turned to Rachel. "Well? Did you think he'd just come right out and tell you every detail? I told you whatt Samantha said happened. Would _you_ willingly talk about that?"

"Well... you're his friend... go talk to him!" Rachel encouraged.

"You're his shrink! You talk to him." Chance retorted.

"It won't..." Rachel started.

"Do any good?" Chance finished. "Look, you want my advice? I say let him deal with it on his own. When he gets in over his head, he'll realise he made a mistake and come back to us."

"He's _already_ in over his head." Rachel stood up.

"Yeah he is. And he's probably wishing that we'd all just leave him alone so he could be in over his head by himself." Chance stood up. "So let him. He's almost 24 years old!"

"So now you're on his side? At Christmas when he had that breakdown you were all for helping him. Now you don't care?" Rachel held back her temper.

"I do care. That's why I'm giving him his space." Chance waved his paw in the direction of Jake's room. "You only see what comes into your office once a week. I see him everyday. Let me give you a clue, Rachel. He's stopped taking his antidepressants, he's off the bloodpressure pills, and he wants to stop therapy. Do you know why?"

"Because he refuses help." Rachel said sternly.

"No. Because he wants it to stop." Chance replied quietly.

Rachel frowned. "That's what he says."

"He talked to me, Rachel. The other night, we sat down and got drunk together and he was so gone... I don't think he could have stopped talking if I wanted him too." Chance said.

"You got him drunk?" Rachel looked shocked. "Chance..."

"I know, given his records you feel blah blah blah. I don't care! Listen to what I'm going to tell you." Chance said. Rachel sighed and Chance continued. "I don't even think he remembers what he said. He was at the point were he was so drunk he was sick and he was rambling on and on... he told me things that happened to him, that his step father or uncle or whatever the bastard was did to him. I know what kind of hell he's blocked out. And I know why he wants it to stay that way."

"What did he tell you? What did he say happened to him?" Rachel asked, almost pleading.

"Why? To satisfy your professional curiosity?" Chance shook his head. "I'm not telling you anything. Except that if he had really completely blocked all this out, he wouldn't have been able to say it when he was drunk. He knows. And he feels much better knowing that no one else does."

Rachel shook her head. "But why? Why would he want to keep it locked up?"

Chance almost laughed. "Because he's disgusted by it, it terrfies him. If you make him talk about it and get it out, you'll break him. So just leave it alone."

Rachel huffed. "Fine." She picked up her purse and stormed out.

* * *

(on the roof)

Jake sat wide eyed, having heard every word. He was shaking, struggling to remember the other night, what he could have said. His head throbbed and he layed flat on his back, staring at the clear blue sky. Below he heard the sound of a dump truck backing in and the crude laughing of its inbred driver and equally disgusting passenger. Burke and Murray. The sound of Chance cussing them for dumping their load on the steps became a blur, replaced by the sound of his mind humming. What if the only way to forget was to come to terms with the events of the past? Jake shook his head, he felt weak. He wanted to go back inside but he couldn't bring himself to move. It seemed like he'd been up there forever. The sun had moved again, it was lower in the sky once more, nearing the horizon. But he could only see the orange glow on the clouds that had moved in. The horizon, he imagined, was now a bloody shade, meaning that the weather tomorrow would be just as nice as it had been today. It was like God was taunting him with a nice beautiful sky and warm weather. Everything looked beautiful on the outside, but on the inside it was dark and stormy. He wished the sun would be covered with heavy dark clouds full of rain and that the sky would rip apart with thunder and lightning... that a bolt of hot electricity would strike him in the head, giving him amnesia so that he could forget it all and start over. He heard the ladder squeak as Chance made his way to the roof.

"There you are."

Jake rolled his head in the direction of Chance, then back to the position it was in.

"I guess you aren't hungry?" Chance didnt receive a response. "Well when you are, there's pizza on the table."

"If it's alright, I don't think I'm going to church with you on Sunday anymore." Jake said quietly.

"Hey that's up to you. I wasn't forcing you anyway." Chance sat down in one of the lawn chairs they kept up there.

"What do you think I should do?"

"About what?" Chance slouched in the rusty chair.

"I don't remember whatever I told you the other night. I know you do, because I heard what you were telling Rachel. I also know that you're spiteful and that she pisses you off when she acts like she knows everything. So honestly, what do I think I should do?"

Chance sighed. "You aren't going to like what I have to say."

Jake frowned. "Have I liked anything you've had to say lately?"

"Right... honestly... I think you need to get it out, let it go. What you're holding on to, it's something horrible. I don't think I could have told Rachel what you told me if my life depended on it. But if you don't let it go, I don't think you stand any chance of ever forgetting it, or at least putting it behind you."

Jake nodded.

"I also think you need to flush the pills and stop drinking and do something positive." Chance said sternly.

"I don't drink that much, just lately." Jake defended.

"Don't bullshit me, Jake. I know you've got a nice little collection going in your dresser of liqour bottles. And as much as you talk about how you don't drink any more, how you don't know you're limit. I think you're just trying to convince yourself that you know what you're doing. So... if you throw it away and don't touch another drink, I won't tell Rachel and I'll forget it ever happened." Chance said flatly.

Jake huffed lightly. "No secrets, huh?"

"No secrets." Chance said. "Not just from me. Stop lieing to yourself."

Jake nodded.

"So get up already, clean out your stash and get something to eat." Chance stood up.

Jake let out a long sigh and stood up too, following Chance down the ladder.

* * *

(at therapy)

Jake drummed his fingers nervously on his knees. He'd talked to Rachel and they agreed no more hypnotism. Now she sat across from him, watching him struggle to form into words what he'd never been able to before.

"You know, if you aren't ready to do this, Jake, I'll understand. This is all in your hands." Rachel said quietly.

Jake nodded and stood up, walking around the overstuffed couch, staring out the blinds to the almost empty parking lot. He opened and closed his jaw. Then sighed and lowered his head. "I think what bothers me about finding out my stepfather was gay is that I always knew, I just couldn't accept the events that proved it to be true." He turned away from the window and leaned on the back of the couch, never meeting Rachel's eyes, afraid of what she'd think of him when he said what he was about to say. "When he was drunk... when I was a kitten... he used to come into my room... " Jake's mouth went dry and he felt a little dizzy. So he went around to the right side of the couch and sat down. "I think... normal fathers, well, when I thought he was my father, that they just watch their kids sleep, wanting to keep them that innocent forever." Jake shook his head. "But they don't interfer with normalcy... they don't... touch... their kittens like that and make threats that if you make a sound, you'll be beaten for it." Jake stopped talking. He couldn't say anything else.

"Chance is the only other person who you told this to?" Rachel asked softly.

Jake just nodded.

"If your father wasn't dead, would you confront him about it now?" She asked.

Jake looked up sharply. Anger etched all over his face. He shook his head. "No. If he was alive now... I'd kill him myself."

"You think you are capable of killing a kat?" Rachel asked.

"I hated him. I know I'd be capable of killing him... he wasn't just a kat... he was a monster." Jake whispered, standing. "I know it's early, but I don't have anything else to say."

Rachel nodded, needing time, herself to deal with the new information.


	18. chapter 18

**I know, I'm a sick individual. But that's the beauty of fiction... that my own disgusting writing style doesn't really mean anything in the real world. **

Razor sat in the gunner seat of the Turbokat. He'd been hitting targets like they were nothing. He was withstanding the g's. He was grinning from ear to ear.

"Looks like I've got my sure-shot back!" T-Bone exclaimed excitedly.

"Right on!" Razor couldn't stop smiling.

"Alright, buddy, it's getting late, let's turn this bird around." T-Bone said, catching Razor's reflection in the canopy.

* * *

(home)

Jake focused on the powder coming off each time his fist connected with the bag. It had been a week and a half since he finally consciously told someone what had happened to him. And to be honest, while he felt unburdened, he didn't feel any different. Rachel gave Chance the go ahead to let Jake back in the air, hoping it would help him feel more like himself. And Jake did his part to let everyone think that what they were doing was really helping. He forced himself to be in a good mood and was taking energy pills when no one was looking so that they wouldn't notice he was missing sleep. He was having nightmares again. But no one had to know. It was currently 3:00 am and he was wide awake, using his energy to benefit himself, doing anything he could to keep his mind from wandering to his dreams, to the past he was forcing himself to forget about. He had kept his promise to Chance and dumped out all the alcohol he had in his room. Jake hadn't touched it since. He forced himself to eat breakfast, lunch and dinner everyday, even if he didn't feel like eating. That was probably the hardest part about his routine... forcing food into his system. Sometimes he felt like he was on one of those Fear shows where they had to eat disgusting things like raw intestines and such. Jake shook his head. "Focus on your fists, not your thoughts." He said to himself as he continued to unleash his unwanted aggressions in a brutal assault on the punching bag. Every now and then he threw in a kick for good measure so as to even the workout on his body. The stereo wasn't on. The only sounds were his own heavy breathing and the echoing of contact with the swaying bag that had been patched up and repaired inumerable times.

Lately, with the energy suppliments and the insomnia, Jake had a lot of energy and he was putting it all into various things to keep his mind focused off himself. They were on top of things in the garage, he'd restocked _and_ overstocked their weapons supply, rewired and updated the Turbokats digital equipment, calibrated the Cyclotron, cleaned the house from top to bottom, reinforced the ladder to the roof, fixed the satellite on the television, and adjusted the Swat Kat Alarm. Now, having run out of things to do, spent his spare time working out.

It seemed like only minutes had passed when the tiny beeping alarm on his watch went off signalling that it was quarter to seven. "Time to shower..." He cleaned up the hangar so that there wasn't any sign he'd been down there early in the morning and made his way upstairs.

When he finished in the shower he went to the kitchen, made a pastry and some coffee and washed his dishes along with the others in the sink. Then he scrubbed the counter, emptied the coffee pot, washed it, set it on the rack to dry, then proceeded to clean out the refigerator.

Chance rubbed his eyes as he walked into the kitchen, stopping sharply to see Jake on his paws and knees scrubbing the bottom of the fridge. "What are you doing?"

Jake looked up. "Sit ups."

"Huh?" Chance looked confused.

"What's it look like I'm doing?" Jake asked sarcastically.

"Excessively cleaning." Chance replied.

"It's not excessive. Have you looked in the bottom of the fridge... have you _smelled_ the bottom of the fridge?" Jake asked.

"Why would I? Nothing goes in the bottom of the fridge." Chance sighed and reached for a coffee cup. "You didn't make coffee this morning?"

"I did." Jake said.

"You drank a whole pot of coffee? No wonder you're cleaning like a she-kat." Chance teased.

"No I drank a cup and a half and then it tasted bad so I dumped it and cleaned the pot." Jake replied.

"Maybe it was just you." Chance said, putting the coffee pot back together and starting a pot. "Your coffee is too strong anyway." He sat down and flipped to the comic section of the paper while he waited on the coffee to brew. "Hey did you know hookers can claim hiv tests and sex toys as tax deductions?"

"Actually, no I didn't. But I don't know any hookers to ask them those kinds of questions." Jake replied.

"Well I don't either... I saw it on tv." Chance replied.

"How do you always manage to come across the dumbest program on television?" Jake asked, standing up.

"I could say the same thing about what you watch." Chance argued.

Jake shut the fridge and pulled a chair away from the table. He stood on top of it and wiped off the top of the fridge.

"You know I was wondering," Chance said as he got up to pour his coffee. "How you managed to get us caught up on all the weapons and stuff when I never see you go down to the hangar unless there is an emergency."

"Oh." Jake pushed the chair back and rinsed the rag off in the sink. "Well, I haven't been able to sleep and I figured there was other stuff I could be doing rather than watching tv." He shrugged it off.

"You just haven't been able to sleep?" Chance mimiced his shrug. "Like not sleeping is a normal thing."

"Well sooner or later it becomes normal and you get over it and do something with the extra time." Jake swept his hand around at all the cleaning he'd done.

"Just out of curiosity... when was the last time you slept?" Chance asked casually.

"I got a few hours this morning." Jake lied. "Look, if you're worried, I'd tell you if something was wrong."

"I know... you just seem to be so energetic lately, almost like your on caffiene pills or something."

Jake gave a nervous laugh. "Caffeine pills... honestly..." He walked off, a feeling a guilt building inside of him. He closed his bedroom door behind him. "Maybe it's worth a few nightmares to not live with a lie." Jake said to himself as he tossed the suppliments in the trash and laid face first on his bed. "After-all... everyone dreams... maybe this time, it will seem more like a dream than reality." He muttered into his pillow, his eyes drooping shut.

.end


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